


it ain't here love (and it just breaks my heart)

by twoorangecookies



Category: Power Rangers (2017)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Depression, F/F, No cheating, POV Second Person, maybe emotional cheating, starts with kim/jason, trimberly are endgame
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-27
Updated: 2019-05-22
Packaged: 2019-08-08 15:18:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 46,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16431929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twoorangecookies/pseuds/twoorangecookies
Summary: || You're miserable, and you feel like you're destined to stay miserable, and it aches in a way you never before thought you could ache. You're so used to feeling numb over everything in your life, and now this ache is prevalent. When did trying to do the right thing become such a terrible thing? Where was the love you were promised from books and fairy tales? Isn't Jason your prince? He's kind enough, handsome enough, isn't he supposed to make you happy? ||Kimberly Hart always dreamt of a happily ever after, but found herself living in a happy-enough ever after, and she didn't think she'd ever find more. Not until 'more' walked in to the Krispy Kreme one night and she started to doubt everything.





	1. when will i begin to live again

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, yes, I am bringing you another fic! For those waiting on an update for To Love, it is slowly in the works. I promise. For now, have this. 
> 
> This is a short chapter, more of a prologue. I hope you like it and what's to come. I don't know how long this one will be, but I have plenty of content in my head for it.
> 
> Warnings for depression and self-angst. 
> 
> Work title and the song that fueled the entire idea is If I Loved You by Delta Rae. Go listen to it!! And, well, everything they do. They're amazing. Chapter title from One Day I'll Fly Away from Mulan Rouge.

You're sitting on a sticky, deflated and lumpy booth in an empty Krispy Kreme at seven o'clock at night. The world outside the window beside you is dark, and you watch people rushing around to get home to their loved ones for dinner. Your chin is in your hand as you blink slowly. You can also see your reflection in the window and it's almost like you're out there – like you're one of them. You glance down at the half eaten donut in front of you and your lip curls slightly. Not because it's not good – come on, it's Krispy Kreme – but more because it's not really dinner.

 

Your phone buzzes in your pocket and you ignore it. You know who it is. You're not ready yet. You're not ready to go pretend, and you're not ready to dive back into a life that suffocates you until there's nothing left but an empty body going through the motions. You think to yourself, as you always do, that you're horrible. You hate yourself for the way you've let life get so complicated. You hate yourself for hurting the person who is truly your best friend.

 

And see, that's the problem. He's not supposed to be your best friend. Well, yes, he should be, but he should also be more. He should _feel_ like more. Jason Scott has been your best friend since you were both seven years old, since you stood up to a bully for him on the playground, and you really do care for him. But when he kisses you, you feel nothing. When you have sex, it feels good, but you don't connect with him. And when he proposed, in front of both of your families, what choice did you have but to say yes? You know he'll take care of you, and you know you'll be happy enough, but _god_ he isn't _it_. When you started dating you always thought it would build into something. You always thought 'it's okay, I'll feel that feeling soon', but you never did.

 

Oh, and the worst part, the worst fucking part, is that he _knows_ it. You know he sees it and feels it, and that makes you so much worse because you won't just _give in_ and let him go. And you're not sure if he wants you to let go. You think that maybe, maybe, he could live with you giving only ten percent of yourself – that's how much he loves you. And you don't deserve his love like that. You don't deserve anything good from him.

 

The bell on the door rings and your eyes dart up to see who walks in. A man in a suit. Your eyes fall again. You think about Jason, at home, waiting for you to get there. He's probably ordered in something that's a favorite of yours, because he knows all of your favorites, and he's good like that. He's _so_ good. Your heart clenches and aches, because you wish you could be that good for him. But how do you make yourself love someone when you don't?

 

The bell rings again, you look up, and it's _her_. The reason you're sitting in a Krispy Kreme at seven o'clock at night instead of sitting at home with the man you're supposed to marry. She's wearing gray jogging pants and a black tank top with thin straps. Her beautiful brown hair is swept up in a knot on the back of her head, but wisps fall down around her face, framing her full cheeks and sharp jaw line. You stare. You can't do anything but stare. She goes to the counter and you strain to hear her voice as she orders a half dozen donuts and two hot chocolates to go. You feel even more dejected. To go. She wasn't going to sit and eat and play on her phone like usual. It's not like you would ever get the nerve up to approach her, but having her close, even as strangers, is something you look forward to every day. Twice a day on weekends. Weekday mornings you don't bother, because she only darts in for a coffee to go and runs out again. You learned that three weeks ago on a Tuesday morning, when you went in to see if she ever came in earlier in the day.

 

You first saw her two months ago. You were escaping home as usual, and you were craving something sweet when you passed by the Krispy Kreme, so you stopped in and sat for awhile. She came in at 7:15 on the dot and ordered a donut and a hot chocolate, and she sat at a table near you as she ate and played on her phone. You couldn't take your eyes off of her. She was beautiful, but there was something else. Something more. It pulled you to her, and you didn't want to let go. You couldn't dare talk to her. What would you say? Even if she liked girls, too, you were taken. You could have tried to make a friend of her, but who really did that? No, you couldn't talk to her. So you kept to yourself and discreetly watched her, and at 7:45 she jumped up and was out the door. You watched her run by the window where you sat without even a glance in your direction. You wondered where she was running off to. Who she was running off to. And you knew, you just knew, that you had to see her again.

 

You took a chance and went the next night at the same time, and she was there again. And the night after that, and the night after that. So you became a regular at Krispy Kreme, at seven o'clock every night, and ten in the morning on weekends.

 

Ten o'clock on Saturday and Sunday is when she brings him in. You're not sure if he's her boyfriend, but they don't really act like it. Who are you to judge that though? You know you don't act it with Jason. At least not well. But you still wonder who this man is to her. He's tall, dark skinned, and he smiles a lot. It's actually a little endearing, despite the jealousy that claws through you when you see him with her. _Your_ her. Jealousy because he gets to talk to her, laugh with her, and know her outside the walls of the Krispy Kreme. Something you never will know.

 

You come back to the moment, the balance of where you are in existence, and you watch her take her order and head for the door. The door jingles and she's gone, and you don't know what comes over you – you swear you're not insane – but you jump up and you follow her out the door. She's half a block ahead of you, but you couldn't lose her in a crowd if you tried. Her being and your eyes are like magnets to each other, and you watch her move through the people and down the sidewalk. You follow her around a corner and across the street, and around another corner, and she slows and stops at a building. You're across the street from her and you stop as well. You look up at the building and realize it's an apartment building. She's taking out a key. You know where she lives. You watch her disappear through the door, and as it closes you feel your heart sink low in your chest. She's gone. Until tomorrow.

 

Your head is down – if you had a tail it'd be between your legs – and you walk back towards the Krispy Kreme and your car. It's time to go home, and it's the last place you want to be. You get into your car and close the door, and before you can put the key into the ignition you start to cry. Your shoulders shake, your tears pour out, there's snot and hiccups, and you don't care who can see you. You're miserable, and you feel like you're destined to stay miserable, and it _aches_ in a way you never before thought you could ache. You're so used to feeling numb over everything in your life, and now this ache is prevalent. When did trying to do the right thing become such a terrible thing? Where was the love you were promised from books and fairy tales? Isn't Jason your prince? He's kind enough, handsome enough, isn't he supposed to make you happy? Not some girl that you don't even know, that you literally stalked home, but the boy you grew up with? That's how the story is supposed to go. How your story is supposed to go. It's what you've been holding to for so long, but how long can you really do it? How long, when there's someone like _her_ in the world?

 

You dry your face as your tears slow to a stop, and you flip the visor down to look at yourself in the small illuminated mirror. Your face is blotchy and red, your eyes bloodshot, and your makeup is smudged. How do you hide your entire face? You're not sure, but you're going to go home and figure it out. Home; where you'll paint on a smile and be _happy enough_. Where you'll already start the countdown to tomorrow night, seven o'clock, when you can see her again.

 


	2. what would it take for me to feel again?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title/quote from Taste My Own Tears by Paloma Faith.
> 
> This chapter was a bit of a struggle and had to be rewritten once, but I wanna thank overratedmusings on tumblr for all the help in this chapter.

_"And it's making me crazy_  
_Cause I can't stop thinking of you_  
_Oh, and nothing can save me_  
_Can't help coming back_  
_Cause I don't feel nothing 'til I taste my own tears_  
  
_Why would I do this to myself again_  
_Drag myself through the dirt when I can see the end_  
_It's been a long time coming since somebody knew me_  
_Someone got inside my head"_

 

* * *

 

 

 

You're there again. In that booth. You skipped the donut tonight and went straight for the coffee. You know you drink far too much of the stuff, but not only does it keep you going after your many sleepless nights, it also balances you. Or more, the caffeine does. You suppose it has something to do with your ADHD-C, but aside from the pill you pop twice a day every day you prefer not to think about it much. You don't like to think about another way in which you're not quite right. Or as your mother would say, 'You're just a little _off,_ Kimberly.' Your frown deepens as you pull your coffee closer and let the steam hit your face. You breathe it in and let out a long sigh. In all your thinking you miss the bell above the door ring, and you miss your chance at seeing her walk in. You don't even realize she's in the building until you happen to glance up and see her sitting at a small table towards the back. There aren't many other people in the restaurant, so you have a clear view of her playing on her phone. She's forgone her usual jogging clothes and is wearing black jeans, a white tee shirt – like a men's tee you think – and a gold and black flannel. You wonder if she's warm dressed that way, or if she simply doesn't care that it's seventy-something degrees out even with the sun starting to go down. She begins to lift her head and your drop yours immediately. Your empty coffee cup has never looked so interesting before.

 

Your phone vibrates once. You don't want to check it, but you and Jason had nearly had a fight the night before over you ignoring him. You take it out and press the home key, and right away you see his message on your lock screen.

 

_Jase: I guess you won't be home for dinner again? I'm ordering pizza. I'll save you some._

 

And no. No, he shouldn't save you any. He shouldn't be considerate of you like that. You want to slam your head down on the table. Here you are, stalking a stranger that you're for some reason infatuated with, and he's at home wondering where you are and offering to save you pizza. No, yeah, you do slam your head down. Your forehead hits the table hard and you feel it reverberate back through your skull. It hadn't always been so hard. You were there and more attentive, and you at least _tried_ to want it, but then...god, then you saw _her_ and all of it got so much harder. Feelings and thoughts inside of you started to emerge and you really began to question what you were doing. Now all you do is question yourself and your choices.

 

You hear something slide across the table in front of your head and you sit up quickly. The blood doesn't know where to rush to and you feel light-headed and woozy. You blink tiredly at the man standing beside your table. He's tall, Chinese-American you think, and he has a sweet smile. He also likes to pick on you and nicknamed you Pink, because apparently you wore pink the first several times you came in. He works a lot, and you can tell he works hard. At the moment though he's standing there with his hands clasped behind his back and he's grinning down at you.

 

“Your head okay, Pink?” He asks. You reach up and rub it subconsciously.

 

“Yeah.” Your eyes fall to the cup of coffee he has just placed on your table, then you glance up questioningly.

 

“I was told to bring that to you to see if it makes your night better,” Zack states, his eyes gleam mischievously.

 

“By...who?” Your voice cracks. You've hardly used it all day.

 

“I was sworn to secrecy!” He booms loudly, and you wrinkle your nose. He discreetly holds his hand in front of himself and points his thumb over his right shoulder. You follow with your eyes and see only one table in that range. Hers. She's glaring at Zack's back with her palms flat on her own table.

 

“I saw that, Zack! Fuck,” she calls over.

 

You don't know what to say to either of them, so you don't say anything at all. You watch their exchange instead.

 

“I didn't do anything!” Zack throws his hands in the air innocently as he turns to face her. Your eyes dart back and forth.

 

“Yeah, ya did, and I saw it. I _said_ it was supposed to be a secret.”

 

Your eyes move back to the cup of coffee in the white paper cup, Krispy Kreme logo on the side, and you pull it to yourself in both hands. She bought you coffee. A secret coffee. Your very own secret girl coffee. It brings a small smile to your lips and they lift at the corners.

 

“That's better.”

 

Your gaze shoots up, because her voice is suddenly very close. As in right next to your table. She's standing there, arms crossed, watching you with a bit of a smirk across her full lips. You try not to stare at her lips. You lick your own and open your mouth, but nothing comes out. You clear your throat and try again. “Thank you,” you say quietly.

 

“You're welcome,” she replies. “Tried for that kindness of a stranger thing, but Zack kinda killed it.”

 

Your smile starts to widen. “He means well...I think.”

 

“Well, I'll leave ya to it. Have a good night.” She turns to walk away and your eyes widen. You aren't ready for your first interaction with her to be over. And she bought you coffee. She's kind. You just know she's kind and true, and you're not sure how you find the nerve, but your mouth opens and you call out, “Wait.” She stops and turns back to you, and her brow is raised cutely into her forehead. “Would...would you like to sit?” You ask.

 

You watch her consider it. Weigh it out in her mind. You think she's going to tell you no, that she doesn't have time for someone weak like you, but instead she smiles – it's a soft, sweet little smile – and she gives a nod as she walks back over. “Okay,” she says when she's close enough. She slides into the booth across from you and (and in no time Zack brings her donut and hot chocolate over from her table and disappears again) and she aims that smile at you, and you feel weak all over. She's even more beautiful up close, and while it's obvious she's Latina, you start to wonder just where her ancestors are from. Wherever it is you want to go there and find out how they make people so beautiful and perfect looking.

 

“Thank you,” you say after a long silence. “For the coffee, I mean. Not the sitting down. Though, I mean, thank you for that, too?”

 

She's smiling and looking out the window, and when you finally shut your awkward mouth she turns and meets your eyes. Hers are dark and hypnotic, and you can't look away. “You're welcome,” she says. “For the coffee and the sitting.” She's teasing you. She's comfortable enough to tease you. You feel your smile break your cheeks.

 

“But why?”

 

She still hasn't looked away from your eyes and you're just fine with that. You could stare at her all night long. She runs her fingers through her long, loose hair, and her smile fades some. She glances down. You panic. What did you do to change the mood? Your own smile drops away as you worry. Finally she says, “You looked like you needed it tonight.”

 

“Oh.” You say. You didn't realize you had looked so...in need.

 

“You just look more wigged out than usual,” she says, but in an instant she freezes and her eyes widen. She sucks her lips into her mouth and clamps down. You frown and tilt your head, trying to make sense of what she had just said.

 

“Usual?” You're not sure what to react to first. That she's noticed you before now or that you apparently always look 'wigged out'. You don't even notice that you're pouting, but she's looking at you and makes a resigned face before dropping her forearms onto the table.

 

“Yeah...I see you in here sometimes,” she says. She lifts a shoulder in a shrug as if it's no big deal, but to you it's a very big deal. It's monstrous. It means she's _seen_ you. You came close enough to her orbit to be noticed by her. Isn't it what you've been wanting?

 

“I...I see you sometimes, too,” you tell her. She's playing with her fingernails on the top of the table, and she's smiling a secret little smile that you would love to crack.

 

“I know.” Her voice is just this side of cocky, but calm and straight to the point. You pull back in your seat. You couldn't frown harder if you tried. She's watching you from under her soft, long eyelashes, and you wonder if she's the devil.

 

“You...know?”

 

“I've...noticed you. Noticed you noticing me.”

 

“Oh.” You take a sip of your coffee. You need something on your dry, scratchy throat other than the word 'oh'. You swallow the hot liquid and feel it burn it's way down your throat and chest. She's noticed you noticing her. This is where you want to get up and run away in shame. This is you wishing you were a better fucking bi-sexual. Apparently you aren't stealthy. Good to know. You feel your cheeks burning and you're sure they're red, along with your ears. She starts to chuckle and folds her arms to her stomach as she leans back in the booth.

 

“It's not a big deal,” she assures you. It's not assuring. You want to crawl into a hole. But, god, she's fucking _smiling_ at you. How can anything be bad when she's smiling at you?

 

“Okay,” you finally reply. It's all you can get out.

 

“Should we exchange names? I mean, in my head I've been calling you Beauty Mark, but I doubt that's your real name.”

 

She's smooth, isn't she? You wonder if you could ever be smooth like her. “I...didn't come up with a name for you.” You suddenly wonder why. It could have made obsessing a lot easier.

 

“Must not have left much of an impression then, huh?” She's still teasing. You can see it in her eyes. You feel flutters in your stomach and further down, and you bite your lip to try to tame them.

 

“I wouldn't say that.”

 

“No? What would you say?”

 

“I noticed you.” You shrug. You can't offer more than that. It would reveal far too much of yourself. “I...would like to know your name, though.”

 

“Okay...I'm Trini.”

 

She has a name. _Trini_. Such a lyrical, sweet name. “Trini,” you repeat it softly, getting a feel for it on your tongue. You like how it feels.

 

“What about you? Do I get a name in return?”

 

“Kimberly,” you tell her. You don't say that you feel like you have different names. Kim is what Jason calls you; sometimes Kimmy. Kimberly is what your parents call you, and every time they say it you can hear the shame and disappointment in their voices, and it almost feels like the name itself is filled with those things. You cringe when they say it, and you wait for whatever put down you're about to receive. You're not sure you want to give her any of those names, but what else would she call you? You always envisioned that if, when, you ran away from it all you'd go by Ann, your grandmother's name, but you have never quite been sure that it suits you. You think-

 

“Kimberly, hm? I like that.” She cuts off your thoughts and you're grateful. You smile bashfully at her words.

 

“You can...call me Kim if you want.”

 

“...nah, I think I like Kimberly.” She's smiling at you again, or still, and you're smiling back. Your heart is warm and your insides don't feel quite as broken as they usually do.

 

“It's nice to meet you, Trini,” you say.

 

“And it's really cool to finally meet you, Kimberly.”

 

You're toast.

 

You're both still smiling at each other as you bring your hand up to brush your hair behind you ear, and you catch her eyes move before her face falls slightly. She quickly corrects it, and it's like it wasn't even there. A second in time that never happened. But it did, and her eyes are still out of focus staring at your ear. You're confused until you pull your hand down and see what she's looking at. Your engagement ring. Your tether. Your own face falls and you quickly shove your hand under your leg.

 

“I, uh...engaged, huh? That's awesome.” Trini stumbles a moment but regains herself.

 

“Thank you,” you say quietly. You don't want to tell her how not awesome it is. (Only you do. You want to tell her it's terrible and that she's not and that you need a reason not to do it..) You hate that ring, now more than ever.

 

“And your fiancee doesn't mind you coming here alone all the time?”

 

“No,” you lie. “He knows I like my space sometimes.”

 

“That's understanding of him.” Trini leans forward, both arms folded on the table. “Gotta be honest with you...I've been tryin' to get the nerve up to ask you out.”

 

You stare. Are you blinking at all? Because you don't think you are. You're not even sure you're breathing. _She_ has wanted to ask you out? “O-oh,” you say. Damn that word. Is it all you know? She's staring back at you, and you see the raw truth in what she admitted. You don't think she would ever lie to you. You don't know her and you're already accepting this into your consciousness. What's wrong with you? (Everything.)

 

“Sorry. Was that out of line?”

 

“No.” You glance down and finally blink. You swallow. “But...”

 

“Right.”

 

“I'm flattered.”

 

“You're beautiful,” she says easily. You feel yourself blush and you can't look at her. You're scared of what you'll admit to her. “What's his name?”

 

“Jason.”

 

“Does Jason know how lucky he is?”

 

“I think-I think it's more complicated than that.” Your hair has fallen from behind your ear again, so you tuck it back once more. Your coffee isn't steaming anymore, you notice as you stare into it.

 

“No it's not. He either knows or doesn't.”

 

“He knows,” you say a little too hard. You don't mean to, but how is it easy? You aren't good to him. He doesn't know the deepest edges of you. He knows you don't love him as much as he loves you. How is that lucky?

 

“Good.”

 

A silence falls between the two of you. It's not awkward, just quiet. You can feel her eyes on you still and you wonder just what there is for her to be looking at. You feel as though you have the text to your entire being written on your forehead, and she's studying it like a holy scripture – taking it all in and preparing for the exam – and you feel yourself shrinking. You aren't a small person. Or. You weren't always. But years of doing what everyone wants of you instead of what you truly want has diminished you, and you're not sure you can ever go back.

 

Her hand has moved. It's resting midway across the table between you two and you stare at it. Her fingers look so soft, so gentle, as they sit there still and unwavering. You feel the urge to move your hand against hers. You want to know what it feels like to be held by her, but you can't. You can't and you hate it. You move both hands into your lap and grasp them together tightly, nails biting into your skin, and you wish not for the first time that you were someone else. Somewhere else. Somewhere else with her. You shift your eyes up. She's still staring at you. There's an intensity there, and you wonder where it comes from for someone she just met. Someone she doesn't know is a terrible person.

 

You narrow your eyes critically as you watch her closely and study every micro expression. You can tell, just like that, that she could have the power to know you better than anyone or ruin you completely, and you're not sure she wouldn't be worth the devastation. This you know already.

 

“Tell me something about you,” she says. She picks up her hot chocolate and takes a sip, and you see her make a face. It must be cold.

 

“There isn't much to tell,” you say.

 

“I don't believe that.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because everyone has something to tell. They're just waiting for someone to hear it.”

 

You ponder that, and it's true, you have to admit. Your hands twist together as you try to decide what to tell her. Something simple. “I used to be a cheerleader.”

 

She laughs. Her eyes crinkle, as does her nose, and her hand comes up to cover her mouth. “I'm sorry. I just...didn't expect that. You were a cheerleader?”

 

“I don't seem like the type?”

 

“Honestly? No.”

 

“I know. They're...cheerful.” You smile wryly at yourself and shrug. “I used to be. Or I was really good at pretending to be.”

 

“What made you want to be a cheerleader?”

 

“My best friend, Jason, was on the football team. He and his friends were friends with the cheerleaders and they said I should try out. I wanted to be like everyone else.” You say the last part with a smirk. “I tried out, I got in, and I was one of them. For awhile.”

 

“What happened?”

 

“I was friends with this girl, Amanda, and I was stupid to believe we were really friends. Me and Jase were just starting to actually date. She was dating this loser, Ty. I guess she really wanted Jason, because after a party she tried to convince him I'd cheated with Ty.”

 

Her mouth drops open and you enjoy how rapt she is. “Bitch. What'd you do?”

 

“I told Jason that she was lying, and he believed me. We were best friends first and he knew I wouldn't lie to him like that. She was so pissed that she got the other girls behind her and kicked me out.” You shrug again. “I was really upset for awhile, but I know now that it wasn't worth it.”

 

“Wow.” She shakes her head slowly. “So...you and Jason have been together for awhile, huh?”

 

You nod. “Best friends since we were seven. He kissed me when we were fourteen and asked me out when we were sixteen.”

 

“Playing the long game.”

 

“I guess so.”

 

“It's nice to have someone who'll stick by you all that time,” she comments. You hear in her tone that she doesn't mean just you. Before you can ask she tells you, “My brother, Billy, you mighta seen him in here with me sometimes, he's like that for me. Without the dating.” She must see the confusion in your face, because Billy must be the man she comes in with on the weekends, but he looks nothing like her.

 

“Brother in spirit,” she amends. “He's seen me through some shit.”

 

“Oh. He looks really nice.”

 

“He is. Probably the single nicest person on the planet.”

 

“I don't know. I think that might be Jason,” you argue pleasantly.

 

“Nope. No way could he be nicer than my B.” She has a stubborn smile on her lips, and you imagine yourself kissing it off. Then you scold yourself for thinking so.

 

“Okay. Second nicest then.”

 

“And you?”

 

“Me?”

 

“Are you the nicest girl?”

 

You can't help but chuckle as you shake your head. “I'm...probably the meanest girl ever.”

 

“Hard to believe.”

 

“It's true.”

 

“I think you're lying to me, Kimberly.”

 

“You don't know me well, Trini.”

 

“I'd like to.”

 

“You would?”

 

“Yeah, I would.”

 

You're smiling, and the edge of your bottom lip is between your teeth. Your heart is warm and swollen at the idea of her wanting to know you. You want to know her, too. You really do. “That'd be nice.”

 

“Sweet.”

 

You phone starts to vibrate on the table and you both look over at it. You see Jason's name and picture lit up on the screen, and that suffocating feeling returns. Trying to breathe through constricted lungs, you reach over for it. Your hand hovers there. You don't want to take the call, but you know you should. He wants to know where you are and when you'll be home, and you don't want to worry him more than you already do. But you don't want to take it. Not when you've been enjoying yourself with her. Not with her watching you so closely. Closing your eyes, you take the phone and swipe it to answer.

 

“Hey.” You try not to sound disappointed that he's ruining your fun.

 

_“Kim? Hey. Are you coming home?”_

 

“Yeah. Give me a bit?” You know she's watching you, but you don't look.

 

He sighs. _“Okay. Dinner will be waiting when you get home.”_

 

You feel guilty all over again. He works hard all day and the least you can do is be home to make him dinner. Instead it's often the other way around. “I'll be home soon,” you promise. You hear his silence on the other end, and you know he wants to say something more, but he doesn't.

 

_“I'll see you then. I love you.”_

 

Your heart clenches. “Me too,” you reply. You end the call and place your phone back down, watching it instead of her.

 

“Guess you gotta go?” She asks.

 

“I guess so,” you answer.

 

“You don't sound very enthused.”

 

You're not. You'd rather stay there with her and talk all night long. You look up and she's watching you with those studious eyes, and you feel it deep in your soul. You force a smile. “It's not like that.”

 

“What's it like?”

 

You look over her shoulder at nothing in particular as you debate what to actually say to her. Do you reveal your truth or keep it to yourself? There's something about her that has you wanting to spill it all. To tell her how unhappy you are. How you want more from love and life, but you don't know how to get it. You want to tell her that you're tired of doing what everyone wants you to do, and for once you want to do what you want. Which is stare at her longer and learn more about her. You want to tell her all of this, but instead your weak smile is on your lips and you shake your head. “I should go.”

 

“...okay.”

 

“It's been....nice.”

 

“It has.”

 

“Maybe I'll see you around.” You sound hopeful, questioning, and she just smiles warmly.

 

“You know where I'll be tomorrow at 7:15,” she says. And you do.

 

You slide out of the booth and grab your purse. (It's something expensive Jason got you for Christmas that you never would have wanted, but he really thought you would.) “Goodnight, Trini.”

 

She looks up at you and god how you could get hooked on that stare and those eyes. “Goodnight, Kimberly.”

 

You tear yourself away and start walking before you can sit back down and ignore your life. You know how easy that would be. You head out the door and start walking down the street to your car, and you wonder if she's watching you go. You hope she is.

 

* * *

 

 

The next night you make dinner early and leave Jason's plate in the microwave for him. You write a quick note that you'll be out late and that he shouldn't stay up. The ever-present guilt rises in your chest and you push it away. You drive to the Krispy Kreme and park your car, then you walk down the sidewalk and enter the building. With a glance around your breath catches in your throat when you realize she's already waiting. In your booth. She's playing on her phone so she hasn't seen you yet, and you take a moment to admire her.

 

“Hey, Pink.”

 

You look over to the cash register and see Zack smirking at you. He looks between you and Trini before settling his eyes on you again. He looks like he's up to something. You approach the counter. “Hi,” you say to him.

 

“See something you like?”

 

“What?”

 

“You know what,” he chuckles.

 

“Can I have a coffee?” You change the subject because you don't like what he's insinuating. Even if it's true.

 

“Don't think I don't know,” he says, wagging a finger. He moves to pour your coffee and you shake your head. Are you really that obvious? Who else sees it? “Here you go.” He puts the coffee on the counter, and as you start to pull your wallet from your purse he shakes his head. “Crazy Girl already paid.”

 

Your eyes squint in confusion. “Who?”

 

“That's what I call her.” He points to Trini and you look over at her before turning back to him.

 

“Oh. Thanks.” You pick it up and carry it over to your booth. You slide in and watch her jump in surprise then give you a wide smile. You melt under the rays of that smile. “You should stop buying me coffee,” you say weakly.

 

“Why?”

 

“Because.”

 

“I'll do what I want.”

 

“You'll make me feel guilty,” you say.

 

“For spending money on you?”

 

“I can buy my own coffee.”

 

“I know you can. Friends can buy each other coffee, can't they?” But the way she's looking at you doesn't exactly scream friendship. The way her lips are curled up in a little smirk. You wonder if she knows everything and is trying to make you break. You look down.

 

“Yes.”

 

“Then that's what this is. We can be friends, right?”

 

“Yeah...I'd like that.” You nod, still fascinated by the top of the table.

 

She reaches out, across the table, and two fingers lift your chin up so that you're looking at her. “Me too,” she says. You stare at her. You feel a warmth inside with her touching you. You also feel like you're maybe dying inside at her touch and her gaze. You've never before had a friend look at you in that way. Not aside from Jason.

 

You turn your head slightly so that her touch falls away, and she pulls her hand back to herself. You still look at her though. Like you could look anywhere else. “How was your day?” You ask. It's a stupid question, but it's the only thing you can think of to say at the moment. You hope she doesn't think you're lame.

 

“Not bad.” She leans back in the booth and slings an arm across the back. “Work went good, got my post-work run in, had dinner with Billy.”

 

You have so many questions, but you can only ask one at a time. “What do you do?”

 

“I run a community center for teens. Runaways, kids who just need somewhere to go for a few hours...”

 

“Wow. That's amazing.”

 

“Nah, it's just what they need,” she says. She has a dismissive look on her face, and you admire her even more. “I usually pop in around eight in the evenings. That's when curfew is. I used to be there almost twenty-four/seven, but I've got a good staff and learned that I can let them handle it without me.” She looks out the window and you're not sure if she's actually seeing anything. “I just really want the kids to know we're there for them, you know? That they have some place warm to come home to.”

 

“It is amazing,” you tell her. “What made you want to do that?”

 

She keeps staring out the window and you see her stiffen. You tell yourself that you're getting too nosy, that you asked the wrong thing. “A lot of things,” she finally says. She takes a beat before turning and looking at you, and you can tell by her gaze that that's all she's going to say. You're okay with that.

 

“Okay.”

 

“What about you? What do you do?”

 

“I work part time at the history museum in the dinosaur exhibits.”

 

Trini grins and leans forward at that. “Seriously? That sounds really cool.”

 

You grin back and nod. “It is. I love staring at them all shift. And I love talking to the kids that come in. They are always so fascinated and want to know everything possible. I sometimes can't keep up.”

 

She chuckles. “I bet you do fine. So have you ever touched them?”

 

“...no.” She raises a brow. “You're not supposed to!” You say, incensed.

 

“Yeah, but have you?”

 

You smile wryly and shrug your shoulders. “Maybe.”

 

“Nice,” she laughs. You grin back. “So you like kids?”

 

“Sometimes. It's different at work, I can, like, put on an act that I do, you know? Outside of work they annoy me.”

 

“No plans for kids of your own then?” Her head tilts and she's studying you again. You look down so she won't see your eyes.

 

“Not right now,” you answer honestly, because the idea of having kids with Jason feels more suffocating than the ring around your finger. “It's not something I'm ready for.”

 

“I get that.”

 

“What about you?”

 

“Well, I'm not gonna do it on my own,” she says quickly. “But...maybe one day. I like the idea of adopting older kids. The ones most people don't want.”

 

You just shake your head and look up again to watch her. “That's amazing.”

 

“No, it's...what people should do.”

 

“But they don't.”

 

“Because they all want babies,” she says.

 

“But what if the older kids are troubled? Can you deal with that?”

 

“What human isn't troubled in some way?” She asks plainly.

 

You go quiet, thinking that over, and you nod. “Good point.” Silence falls between you and you both continue staring at one another. After awhile she shifts in her seat and clears her throat.

 

“I'm gonna get another hot chocolate. Want a coffee?”

 

“I'm good,” you answer.

 

“Okay.” She smiles at you and you melt again. “I'll be back.” You watch her get up and go to the counter, and you softly whimper to yourself. Watching her for as long as you did was one thing, but getting to know her? You have no words. It feels warm, and inviting, and it makes you wish you were on a date with her. And then you feel guilt. You pull out your phone and see that you don't have any calls or texts, but you know Jason is home. You should probably call him and check in, make sure he found his dinner, but then she's coming back to you and you can't be bothered. You pocket your phone and watch her as she approaches the table and sits down, two donuts in her hand.

 

“Got you one,” she says, pushing a pink frosted donut your way. “You seem like a pink girl to me.”

 

“And what does a pink girl seem like?” You take it and look down at it, and yeah you are a pink girl, but you don't have to admit it.

 

“Cute,” she starts. “Kinda quiet, but probably has a lot to say...gorgeous.”

 

“Cute _and_ gorgeous?”

 

“Mhm.”

 

“Probably shouldn't say that,” you tell her as you take a bite of your donut.

 

“Probably not,” she agrees, biting into her chocolate donut. You both chew quietly for a bit, but then she swallows. “Doesn't mean it's not true. Does he not tell you?”

 

You swallow, too, and you cough. “I, uh, that's not a fair question.”

 

“You're right. I'm sorry.” And she does look apologetic, so you let it go. “Tell me something else about you.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because I want to get to know you,” she says. “Why else?”

 

You think for a bit, eat some more donut, as you think of what to share. “Why am I sharing? What about you?”

 

“What do you want to know?”

 

“Tell me more about Billy?”

 

A smile comes to her lips, but you can also see a shadow cross her eyes. You hope you didn't ask the wrong thing. “Billy is my brother,” she begins. “My best friend, and my roommate. We got a place together our junior year of college, and we've lived with each other ever since. Five years.”

 

“That sounds nice.”

 

“It is. We get each other, and he's always there for me. Just like I'll always be there for him.”

 

“And you two never....” You aren't sure the right way to ask it, or why you even are.

 

She bursts out laughing and shakes her head. “Never. One, he legit is my bro and that wouldn't happen. Two, I'm 100% lady-loving gay.”

 

There's the answer you were fishing for. “Oh. Um. Cool.”

 

“You don't have a problem with gay people, do you?” She suddenly looks guarded, and you panic.

 

“No! No, I mean, I'm bi, so definitely not.”

 

“Okay,” she nods slowly. She's watching you and your gaze drops again. “Why do you do that?”

 

“Do what?”

 

“Look away.”

 

“Oh...I don't know.” You make yourself look up again. “I don't mean to.”

 

“Are you shy?”

 

“No,” you shake your head. Sure, at times you are, but you'd never really classify yourself that way. Except around her. She makes you so uncertain.

 

“It'd be okay if you are. I used to be.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Yeah. Growing up, through most of high school. I was quiet and didn't talk a lot.”

 

“What changed?” You ask.

 

“Well, for one, I met Billy. I was new, Sophomore year, and this bully was harassing him in detention and...I just got fed up. I got in the guy's face, a full head and a half shorter than him, and I made him back off. I started to sit with B after that, and we became friends. He found the courage to stand up for himself, and I...I had someone I could use my voice with.” She has a fond smile on her lips as she retells her history, and you can't help but smile, too.

 

“Sounds like a great friendship.”

 

“It is.” She wipes the donut crumbs from her lips and sips her new hot chocolate. “Do you have a best friend? Other than...him?”

 

You shake your head. “I have a couple of friends through the museum, and from college, but Jason's always been my best friend.”

 

“Romantic,” she says, almost dryly. You try not to take offense to that. She sighs then. “No, really, it is. Falling in love with your best friend is like...what everyone says you should do.”

 

Falling in love. Right. “It is,” you agree anyway.

 

“Well, speaking of best friends,” she says. “I should get home. I always bring Billy a hot chocolate home so he can take a break from his work. If I don't, he won't stop.”

 

“Okay,” you nod, but you feel a terrible disappointment run through you. You don't want her to go yet. Ever.

 

“Will I see you tomorrow night?” She asks.

 

“Yeah, I'll be here.”

 

“Okay,” she beams. “I'll see you then.”

 

“See you then,” you repeat.

 

You watch her get up and pick up her cup, then she stands there a moment just smiling at you, before turning and going back to Zack at the counter. You watch her order another drink and take it and walk out the door. When she's gone you deflate. Immediately, someone is sliding into her vacated spot. You look over and see Zack smiling at you with his chin in his hands.

 

“Yes?”

 

“I need to come up with a ship name for you two,” he tells you.

 

You frown and tilt your head. “What?”

 

“Watching this unfold is amazing and I ship it,” he explains. “So I need a name. I'm thinking Crazy Pink. You know, Crazy Girl and Pink. Or I can use your real names, which I know from taking your orders, and call you Kimni.” He looks to the ceiling, clearly thinking that over, then shakes his head. “Maybe...Tri...mberly. Trimberly. Yes!”

 

“Um, Zack, I'm engaged to someone,” you tell him. You watch his eyes go wide, crestfallen, and he frowns.

 

“But...Trimberly!”

 

“Not a thing,” you assure him. “We're friends.” Your heart warms that you can say that, and you're sure he sees your smile.

 

“Fine,” he huffs. “But if you guys are gonna be friends, you have to include me.”

 

“You want to be our friend?”

 

“Yeah!”

 

“Oh. Well, okay. I mean, you can be mine. I can't speak for Trini.”

 

“Awesome!” He holds a fist across the table. “New friends!”

 

You really can't help but smile and reach your own fist across the table to bump his. “New friends,” you repeat.

 

“So, new friend, do you want something? On the house. For my buddy.” He's beaming.

 

“I should really go home,” you say.

 

“Donut holes to go!” He jumps to his feet and runs off behind the counter. You get to your feet and gather your things, and by the time your halfway to the door he's rushing back to you with a bag. “Here!”

 

“Won't you get in trouble for this?”

 

“We throw them away at the end of the night anyway,” he shrugs. “Gotta serve the fresh ones.”

 

“Oh. Well. Thanks.” You take the bag. “I'll see you next time, Zack.” You head for the door and hear him behind you.

 

“See you tomorrow!”

 

Tomorrow. Yes. You'll definitely be back tomorrow. You have to see her again.

 


	3. we only give what we think we deserve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're back! Hope you enjoy this chapter, please let me know what you think! 
> 
> Chapter title from Don't Need a Reason by Beth Orton

_"Calling angels down to Earth,_  
_Because I believe we need them,_  
 _We only hurt the ones we love,_  
 _Why we don't need a reason,_  
 _Gonna get all that you deserve..._ "

* * *

 

Two weeks later you're feeling happier in a way that you haven't felt in a long time. You feel lighter. Even being at home isn't so bad, because you know that every evening you'll sit with Trini and talk, or not talk, and the anticipation is enough to keep you going. Jason has started to acclimate to you being gone between seven and eight o'clock, and while you don't think he's very happy about it, he's not putting up a fight. At least, not until tonight. He gets home from work early, and you're in the bathroom getting ready to go. You're fixing your make up and he comes in to lean in the doorway and watches you for a moment.

 

“Going out again?”

 

“Mhm.” You pick at the tiny clumps in your eyelashes.

 

“I don't get it,” he says with a sigh. “Where are you going?”

 

“For coffee,” you tell him, your patience short. You don't even have a reason why you lack patience for him these days, but you do. It's like the sight of him wears you out, and you know how unfair that is.

 

“By yourself?”

 

“No.” You turn around with your hands on your hips. He's watching you through narrowed, worried eyes, and for a moment you want to run into his arms and hold him close. You know he worries over any little thing with you, and he always has. It's one of the things that drew you to him. He cared. Your gaze falls to the white and green tiled floor and you mumble out, “I made a friend.”

 

“A friend?”

 

“Her name's Trini and we meet for coffee and talk. I...it's good for me.” You feel good for telling the truth, even though it's not the entire truth. The entire truth of how she makes you feel, of the way she looks at you and sets you on fire, or how many times you've looked at her lips and thought about kissing her. You blink rapidly and look up at him. He has a smile on his lips.

 

“That's great, honey,” he says. “I'm glad you have a friend. Why didn't you tell me?”

 

“I don't know.”

 

“If that's when you two need to meet, I understand. Maybe we can have dinner later from now on.”

 

“Really?” You feel your own smile coming on, but you also feel...shame. He's being so kind, so good, just like always. And you're deceiving him.

 

“Really. Go meet...DeeDee, was it?” He comes forward to put his hands on your arms.

 

“Trini.” It feels weird sharing that name with him.

 

“Go meet Trini,” he amends. “Then come home and we'll have dinner together.”

 

“It's okay if you need to eat without me.”

 

“I'll wait.” He presses a kiss to your forehead and your eyes close.

 

“Thank you,” you breathe out. Not that you need his permission or blessing to see Trini, but it feels a little bit easier now that he knows. Or, kind of knows.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Trini is waiting for you when you arrive, and you're blinded by her smile when she sees you slide into the booth across from her. She slides your coffee across the table to you. You take it with both hands and smile softly. She always gets your coffee for you if she arrives before you, and if you arrive first you get her hot chocolate.

 

“Hey,” she greets warmly.

 

“Hey,” you respond. You look up into her eyes, and it's a mistake that you would make time and time again. Her eyes are warm, and full of something that you can't put a name to. Something sweet and caring, but dangerous as well. Enticing and full of promise. You take the lid off of your coffee and watch the steam billow out.

 

“How was your day?” When Jason asks you it sets you on edge, but when Trini asks it feels like she wants to know everything about you. You like it.

 

“Not bad,” you say, same as always. “You?”

 

“Better now,” she answers smoothly. You just chuckle. “What?” She asks.

 

“You say that every night.”

 

“It's true every night.”

 

“Is it?” You tilt your head and watch her closely. Her eyes look darker and her smile is almost pinched.

 

“You should know it is,” she answers.

 

And you do. Because you feel the same way.

 

You clear your throat. “How was work?”

 

“Okay.” Stress wrinkles her eyes, and you know how deeply she cares for what she does. You know how it can eat away at her.

 

“Did you take care of things with that girl? ..Gia?”

 

She sighs, and it's a large sigh. “I don't know. She's so hard to read. I told her she can't stay out past curfew and still come in at night, but I don't think she really heard me. I can't make exceptions, you know? But I also don't want her out on the streets all night long.” Trini isn't looking at you anymore. Her gaze is out the window, and you're studying her profile.

 

“You have rules,” you remind her. “Everyone should have to follow them.”

 

“I know.”

 

“You're really concerned about her.”

 

“I am.”

 

“Maybe try talking to her again,” you suggest. “But don't talk about the rules. Remind her that she has somewhere safe she can be instead of sleeping on a sidewalk. She's seventeen, right?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“She's probably struggling between feeling like an adult and not actually being one,” you say. “We were all there at one point, right?”

 

“Right,” Trini snorts. There's something on her face that you can't interpret, a shadow in her eyes, and you know it has something to do with being a teenager. Things she won't talk about. You don't want to pry, but you want her to know that you're there and she can talk to you about it.

 

“Trini,” you say gently. She turns and looks at you. You're crushed by the haunted fear that plagues her features. “Do you know how she feels?” Trini just nods. “So go with that.”

 

“What if she still doesn't want to listen? I don't want anything to happen to her.”

 

“You can't be sure that nothing ever will.”

 

“I want to try,” she says stubbornly.

 

“Why?” You ask.

 

“Because. I know how it feels to feel like you have no place to go, and I don't want her to think she doesn't,” Trini says honestly.

 

“You do?” You're not trying to pry it out of her, but you have a feeling that she wants you to ask.

 

She's quiet. She looks out the window again. Her fingers are tapping on the sides of her cup anxiously. You're quiet and patient for a long time, and finally you hear her sigh. “I got kicked out when I was sixteen,” she says softly. She sounds like she's trying to say it like it doesn't bother her anymore, but you hear the pain in her words. Your brows move together with worry and you keep watching her. She takes a few measured breaths. “The first night I slept at the abandoned mines, but the next day Billy was able to get it out of me. What happened. Just like that, he took me home with him and his mom said I could stay. Mama Candace treated me like I was hers. She showed me what a mother's love could feel like when it wasn't weighed down by shouted expectations. They became my family.” You watch her eyes crinkle and her lips raise in a smile. “I can't believe I'm telling you all this...” She turns to look at you, and there's something fearful but accepted in her gaze. “You're easy to open up to. And...that says a lot for me.” She looks down. “I lived with them until we graduated.” The smile fades and she sighs again. “I got what Gia hasn't found. I was only out there for one night. She's been alone since she was fourteen, and...and I don't know how to connect with that. I can't.” Her last words crack and you look away. You want to give her some semblance of privacy.

 

After a few moments of silence you speak up. “It's not my business why you were kicked out, or why Gia ran away from home,” you say. “But I think there is a way you can connect with her. You started this place because it meant something to you, and all of those kids mean something to you. Even if you don't know exactly what they're going through, you have enough heart to empathize.” Your heart is pounding and you're not sure why. You really want your words to mean something to Trini, and you want her to hear you. When you're with her you talk more to Trini than you do all day. You chance a look at her again, and she's looking back at you. She's watching you and you feel like you shrink under her gaze.

 

“Thank you.”

 

“For what?” You ask.

 

“Hearing me.”

 

“I hear everything you say,” you answer. And maybe that truth is too much to share, but you feel like she needs to hear it. She needs to hear any truth that you'll give her, because she offered so much already.

 

“That's why I like talking to you,” she replies. She smiles and you're happy to see that it's a true smile. You return it.

 

“I like talking to you, too,” you say.

 

Her hand that's on the table is trembling slightly, her palm facing the sky and fingers slightly curled, and you don't know what comes over you, but you settle your fingers against hers, both sets curled together at just the tips. You give her a smile. “I'm glad,” you say softly. “I mean...I like hearing about you.”

 

Her fingers curl more and tighten under yours. She watches your hands together as she speaks. “I like hearing about you. Tell me something.”

 

“Like what?”

 

“I don't care.” Her voice is soft, faraway, and you think about what you could say.

 

“I think you're brave,” you start. Her eyes snap up to meet yours. “I...always do what's expected of me, even when it makes me want to scream.”

 

“I don't know you very well, but I don't feel like you're the type to do what someone wants you to do just to please them.” How does she _know_ you when she doesn't even know you? How does she sense things about you that people who have known you all your life don't even see?

 

“I am. I...wasn't always.”

 

“What changed?”

 

“When I was twelve, I tried to come out to my mom as bisexual. Even then I knew I was different.” You squeeze her hand as you remember the difficult time, and your mother's reaction, and she squeezes back. “She told me no one would love me if I couldn't make up my mind, and I believed her. So...when Jase kissed me and then asked me to be his girlfriend I thought...see? Someone will love me...and he does...fiercely.” You drop your gaze to your hands entwined. You weren't going to bring him up. You had promised yourself. But you did.

 

“Do you love him fiercely?” She must understand that sad smile on your lips, because then she's asking, “Why would you do that to yourself?”

 

You fiddle with the spoon in front of you and shrug. “'We accept the love we think we deserve'. I didn't think I deserved a grand love, because I couldn't decide. Because I spent my whole life unable to make the right decision, or any decision, and I thought it'd be enough.”

 

“Is it?” Her fingers are tickling the palm of your hand, but you can't bear to look up at her. It's gotten far too real and personal far too quickly.

 

“He loves me.”

 

“And does he know? That you're bi?”

 

“No.” You shake your head quickly. “Why scare off my one shot at love?” And it's not that you think Jason wouldn't accept you, but it's a risk, and it's a risk you don't want to take. Plus, you've already kept it from him for far too long. It's too late.

 

“It's not your only shot. You could find someone that you love as much as he loves you.”

 

You don't like how well she seems to know you and your thoughts after just two weeks of talking. You don't like to think of the implications of that. “It'd break his heart,” you say, resigned.

 

“What about your heart?”

 

You smile sadly. You can't bear to look at her. “My heart is safe,” you answer. Because you know Jason won't hurt you. You know he'll love you and care for you for as long as you let him.

 

She withdraws her hand from yours and your heart sinks. You look up at her with an unknown question in your eyes, and she won't meet them. “That isn't very fair to him, is it?” She asks, her voice faraway.

 

“I...I don't...” You stammer your way through words you don't know how to get out. Of course it isn't fucking fair to him. You've known this. You beat yourself up regularly for it. Does she think you get enjoyment from it? From hurting him? Why are you two even talking about him?? You never wanted to. You fold your hands in your lap and look down at the table.

 

“I just mean...” she sighs. “It's not fair to either of you.”

 

“I do love him,” you whisper, defensively. “And I'm gonna marry him.”

 

“Okay,” she responds after a moment. You glance up and she's looking out the window again. “So when's the wedding?”

 

“We haven't set a date yet.” You don't add on that he's ready to, but you've been the one holding it up. You always make excuses about how the weather won't be right, or it's the time of year your parents go to India, or anything that will delay making plans for a day you're not sure you want.

 

“Gotcha,” she says.

 

You feel like a cold air has settled between the two of you, and you know it's probably your fault. Most things are. Your brows are scrunched together in frustration. The silence over you two billows out for a long time, and you're not sure what to say next. You don't know why she seems...mad at you, but she does. Maybe because she thinks you're a terrible person for what you're doing. You haven't even told her the whole of it. How much it suffocates you and makes you wish....makes you wish you were someone else. You would die to be someone else, because Kimberly Hart is a screw up and infects everyone she comes into contact with. You're certain of it. Finally, after the silence feels to be too much and too deep, she speaks up.

 

“My parents kicked me out, because I came out to them as a lesbian,” she says softly. There's something guarded in her tone, and it pains you. She doesn't need to fell guarded around you. Not ever.

 

“That's terrible,” you say. And it is. You can't imagine what it would have been like if, instead of demeaning what you said, your mother had kicked you out. Given you no place to call home. You watch her with careful eyes and wait for her to turn her gaze from the window to you, and you try to show her your sincerity. “I'm so sorry they did that to you, Trini,” you go on. “No parent should ever...” you shake your head. Your heart is breaking for her.

 

“Yeah, it sucked...and they still won't talk to me...but something great came out of it.” She gives you a small smile, and you see a sparkle in her brown eyes. “I got a brother, and Mama Candace...” Her smile falters for a moment. “It doesn't make up for losing my little brothers though...”

 

“They won't let you see them?”

 

“No,” she shakes her head. “They're sixteen now...it's hard to believe. But I've seen them. I used to go to their school and try to talk to them on the playground when they were younger. Whenever Billy and I go home for a visit, I try to find them. Any chance I get to see them...is worth it all.”

 

“What are their names?” You ask, enraptured by her voice and her story.

 

“Eduardo Jr, or Eddie, and Nicolas, or Nicky.” She has a smile on her lips when she says their names, and you can tell how much she loves them. You aren't surprised. They're her brothers. You don't know what that kind of love is like, being an only child, but you can imagine the closeness that can come from being siblings.

 

“I bet they love you,” you tell her.

 

“Despite all the terrible things they heard about me growing up...yeah, they do. They accept me, too.”

 

“Good. There's no reason you shouldn't be accepted for who you are. You're...pretty amazing,” you say. And you mean it. She is. She's beautiful and funny and so wise. And she makes your heart pound and your stomach flip, and other things that you could never outright say to her.

 

“Thanks...you are, too, you know,” she says. Her head tilts and she gives you a smile. Your stomach does somersaults.

 

“Nah..” you shake your head.

 

“Yeah, you are.” She reaches across the table for your hand again, and you give it to her willingly. “And beautiful.”

 

You feel your face grow hot and you look away from her hypnotic eyes. You've never thought you were attractive, much less beautiful. And even though Jason tells you so, you can't ever believe it. You nearly do when it comes from her though. “Trini...”

 

“You are,” she reiterates. Her thumb traces patters on the back of your hand. “Worth every moment of my time.”

 

Tears prick your eyes, because you have never believed that either. Never believed you were worth much of anything to anyone. You've been a mess for years, and you know it. Everyone knows it. “I don't...” your voice cracks and you closed your mouth.

 

“Come back to my place.”

 

“What?” Your voice must sound surprised and scared, because she shakes her head and speaks quickly.

 

“Just...I mean, I need to get Billy his hot chocolate, but I don't want this to end yet,” she admits, shyly.

 

“Oh...uh...okay?” You voice squeaks slightly and she chuckles at you. “Just...let me text J-...him,” you correct yourself. For some reason you feel strange saying his name to her.

 

“Okay. I'll go get Billy's drink while you do.” She reluctantly pulls her hand from yours after giving it a squeeze and gets up to go to the front counter. You watch her go, and it takes a moment before you realize you've been staring at her ass. You pull your eyes away quickly, but not before spotting Zack at the counter sending you a knowing smirk. You roll your eyes at him before picking up your phone. You tell Jason you'll be out a little later with your friend, Trini, emphasizing that, and that you'll be home later. He replies almost immediately to be safe and that he loves you, and you don't send a message back. You put your phone in your purse and get to your feet, and Trini is beside you in no time.

 

“All set?” She asks.

 

“Yeah,” you nod.

 

“I don't live far from here,” she tells you, and you try to act like you didn't already know that. You still feel shame for following her home that night. It had been a bad night. You expect her to lead the way, but she gives you a smile and takes your hand instead. “C'mon...” And she pulls you out the door. You can't help but go willingly, her hand tight around yours, and you know that without her strong hand holding you up you'd probably pass out on the spot.

 

“I look forward to meeting Billy,” you say as she tugs you down the sidewalk.

 

“Yeah,” she looks at you with a smile. “He's been dying to meet you.”

 

He has? “He has?” You ask, shadowing your thought. If he's been dying to meet you...doesn't that mean she's talked about you? More than once? The idea makes you smile to the sidewalk and she pulls on your hand so that you stumble a little closer to her.

 

“Yeah. He says I don't make friends very often, and if I have made one, she must be pretty great.”

 

“Oh,” is all you can say. She doesn't say anything in return, just guides you down the sidewalks that lead to her apartment. When she pulls you to a stop in front of the building you already knew she continues to hold your hand as she digs out her key. You feel your heartbeat speed up with anxiousness of the impending meeting with the infamous Billy. You squeeze her hand tighter, a lifeline, and she looks up at you.

 

“Don't worry. He's really nice,” she tells you. You believe her, but you're still anxious. He's her brother, her closest person, and this is a big moment. You know it. Soon she's pulling you through the door and up a flight of stairs. You walk two flights before veering off down a hallway, and you come to a stop in front of a door numbered 304. You stare at the faded, gold numbering while she unlocks the door and pushes it open, then you follow her inside. You stick close to her as you step in. She kicks the door shut behind you both. “Let me go get him. He's not gonna hear me yell,” she says. She lets go of your hand and you feel naked and alone. You watch her go down the back hallway and through a door. When the door opens, loud country music billows out.

 

You look at the apartment around you. Everything looks neat and organized; like everything has a place and everything is in its place. There are no pictures on the walls except for a framed Iron Man movie poster above the closed entertainment cabinet. The couches are soft and black with a matching arm chair, and a table runs along the back of the longer couch. You see a picture frame on it, but you're standing behind it so you can't see it. You step forward and pick it up, and in the frame is a picture of what appears to be a younger Trini in a cap and gown, and Billy in the same cap and gown, and a beautiful older woman that you can tell instantly is Billy's mother. Mama Candace, as Trini calls her. She looks warm and caring, and the image makes your lips curl up in a slight smile. The three look so happy in the photo, arms around each other, and it warms your heart that Trini had that – has that – in her life. You hear footsteps and look up to see Trini walking back to you with Billy trailing behind her. Your eyes widen and you quickly put the picture down.

 

“S-sorry,” you say. “I...I got curious...” You feel embarrassed, like you looked into a corner of her that you weren't invited into.

 

“It's okay,” she assures you. She looks over her shoulder at Billy, who looks as nervous as you feel, and is staring at his feet. They come to a stop in the living room, feet from you, and she speaks to him. “B...B,” she says again, and he looks up at her. “This is Kimberly.”

 

Your hands clasp in front of yourself tightly and you rock forward and back on your feet slightly. “Hi,” you say.

 

He slowly looks to you, studies you, and you feel like that movie poster framed to the wall. A smile blooms on his lips, and it's one of the most welcoming and calming smiles you've ever seen. “Hello, Kimberly. It's nice to meet you,” he says. He steps forward and offers his hand. You stare at it a moment before realizing you're supposed to shake it, so you rush forward and do so. He pulls his hand away almost immediately. You're not bothered by that. You go back to clasping your hands. “Trini's told me a lot about you,” he says. Then he stills and looks to Trini quickly. “Is that okay to say?”

 

“Yeah, it's fine,” she chuckles. She tucks her hair behind her ear and you can't help but notice the color in her cheeks.

 

“I've heard a lot about you, too,” you say.

 

“I hope it's good things and not things like how when I was-...well, I won't say,” Billy says.

 

“No, good things. About you and your mom,” you offer.

 

He beams at that. “My mom is great.”

 

“She sounds great,” you reply.

 

“The best,” Trini adds in. You smile and watch them as they look at each other with smiles. Trini elbows him. “You can go back to your work now. Thanks for coming out to meet her.”

 

“Okay, great!” Billy bounces a bit and waves at you. “Nice to meet you, Kimberly.”

 

“Nice to meet you, Billy.” You watch him almost bound back to his room and close the door. You look at Trini. “He's sweet.”

 

“He really is,” she nods. She walks over and sits on the couch and pats the spot next to herself. “Come sit.”

 

You gulp. Sitting on a couch next to Trini seems far more intimate than sitting across from her in a booth. But you want to. So you move several steps over to the couch and sit down, leaving space between you two. Trini leans her elbow to the back of the couch and braces her head with her hand, facing you, and you sit rigidly with your hands together and sandwiched between your thighs.

 

“You look so nervous,” she says. “I'm not gonna do anything to you.”

 

“I-I know,” you say. You try to loosen up and lean back against the couch.

 

“Tell me something else about you,” she says.

 

“Like what?” You're not particularly good at talking about yourself like you used to be.

 

“Like...what did you want to be when you grew up?”

 

You think about that, and it makes you smile. “I wanted to be President,” you say. You remember sitting in your living room and watching the President on TV and imagining yourself at that podium, talking to the world. “I wanted to be the first female President of the United States....and I somehow combined being President and Queen in my head, and imagined living in a palace instead of the White House,” you say, more animated than you'd been in a long time. “I thought I'd have a crown, and a tiara, and that I would hold balls. Then my Prince or Princess would come dance with me, like in Cinderella, only I wouldn't run away, because it was my ball.” You're chuckling as you remember what you hadn't thought about in years. Trini is grinning and laughing into her hand.

 

“That's super adorable,” she says. “Like...incredibly adorable.”

 

“Well, I was,” you answer, chin raising.

 

“Still are,” she corrects. You turn to meet her eyes, and they're dark and dangerous, and aimed right at you.

 

“What about you?” You change the subject quickly.

 

“Ahh, I never really knew,” she admits. “We moved around so much that most of my thoughts revolved around getting caught up on school work and worrying about when we'd move next. Always had a hard time making friends, then when I did I'd lose them....didn't leave a lot of time for day dreaming,” she says.

 

“I'm sorry to hear that.” And you are. Day dreaming was what you did best when you were a kid. You could lose yourself for hours in your day dreams and imagination. “Not even in high school?”

 

“Wellll...” Her nose scrunches adorably. “Once I moved in with Billy and Mama Candace, she was pretty hard on us about knowing what we needed to get out of high school. Like...where we were going later in life, and what high school could do for us....I guess then...I thought I wanted to be a writer,” she says the last part shyly, and she looks away from you. You stare at her beautiful face and smile.

 

“You write?”

 

“I dabbled in poetry,” she says.

 

“That's amazing.”

 

“Nah,” she looks at you again. “I wasn't that great. I started off college for an English degree, but ended up dropping out so I could start the Center.”

 

“Are you glad you did that?”

 

“Oh yeah, I can't think about the kids I wouldn't have helped if I'd waited,” she says.

 

“What's it called?”

 

“Cranston Center for Kids,” she answers, a bit of a smile on her lips.

 

“Oh? Is that your last name?”

 

“No. Maybe. I'm thinking about changing it,” she says. “It's Billy's last name.”

 

You smile. “Would you be happy changing it?”

 

“Yeah,” she answers. “I feel so connected to him and Candace. They're my family now, you know? But...”

 

“You still don't wanna lose your real last name?” You shift on the couch, bringing one leg up folded at the knee, and rest your hand on your knee.

 

“I know they disowned me, and I shouldn't feel so...obligated, I guess, but I do. And it's the only thing connecting me to my brothers.” She runs a hand through her hair and shakes it out. “That's why I can't decide.”

 

“Have you mentioned it to your brothers?”

 

“No,” she says. “I haven't seen them in almost a year.”

 

“Maybe you should go back and try to see them,” you suggest. “See what they think about the idea.”

 

“Yeah...maybe that'd be good...” she muses to herself more than to you. She falls quiet and you stare at her. You'll never get over how attractive she is, and how attracted to her you are. She has a lock of hair over her eyes, and she's too lost in her own thoughts to notice it. You can't help yourself. You reach out to brush it back behind her ear, and as you do she looks at you through her lashes. You look back, your fingers stilled behind her ear. You can feel your heartbeat in your throat, and you feel like you could vomit. Your skin has goosebumps all over. You're hypnotized by her eyes and the way they're looking at you, and she reaches up to close her hand over yours, and the warmth of her skin on yours is such a contrast to how you feel. She removes your hand from her hair and brings it to her lips, and she places a soft kiss to your fingers. Your eyes close. You feel that touch from her lips all over, and it feels good. You're not thinking about anything but that moment. She kisses near the tips of your fingers and you think you gasp softly. Your mouth is open. She unfurls your hand and presses another kiss into your palm. You cup her jaw with your hand, and slide it up to brush your thumb against her cheek. Oh, how you've wanted to feel her jaw and her cheek just like this. You open your eyes and see that she's leaning into your palm, and her eyes are closed now. You move your hand up higher and touch her cheekbone, then higher still to caress her hairline, and then your fingers are moving through her hair. It's so soft. That's the only thing that registers. You brush her hair off of her neck, and you stare at the skin there, thinking about how easy it would be to lean in and kiss it. To trail kisses along that line of skin and down to her collarbone, and from there...

 

“Kimberly,” she breathes out. Your hand stills and you look at her again. Her eyes are open and she's staring at you with that deep, dark look that she gets, and you feel chills down to the bone.

 

“I'm sorry,” you whisper. You pull your hand away, but hers darts out to catch it. She threads her fingers with yours and gives your hand a squeeze.

 

“I'm not,” she says firmly.

 

You squeeze her hand back. “Friends still?” Because friends can touch each other like that, right?

 

“Of course friends,” she answers.

 

“I think...it's your turn to tell me something about you again,” you say.

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“Mhmm,” you smirk.

 

“I think you're the most beautiful woman I've ever met,” she says slowly. You blink and can't bear to look away from the intense gaze she has on you. “I think you're interesting, and funny, and I could talk to you for hours, even if it's about nothing.” Heat blooms across your face. You want to interject and tell her how wrong she is, but you can't move your mouth in the right words. “I think anyone who thinks otherwise is blind and dumb.” She squeezes your hand again. “And I think if I were Jason, I'd treasure you every second of the day.”

 

The last part brings a lump to your throat, and you feel panic bubble up inside of you. “No,” you object. “He does. He-”

 

“I'm not saying he doesn't,” she assures you. “I'm just saying...” She breathes in and lets it out slowly. “Too much maybe.” You stare at her, your eyes begging her for something – you're not sure what – and your lips curl into your mouth. “I just...think you're pretty great,” she says. “And I wish you thought so, too.”

 

You don't know how to respond to that, so you don't. You stare at your hands woven together and you wonder how this moment would go if you weren't with Jason. If you didn't have to worry about his heart in addition to your own. Finally, you clear your throat. “You...make me start to believe it,” you tell her. She smiles.

 

“Good.” She lifts her free arm off the couch and reaches out to tuck your hair behind your ear. Your breath catches. “I'm not a very good hostess,” she declares, moving her arm back to where it was. “Would you like some tea?”

 

“Yeah...tea would be great,” you say. She nods.

 

“Okay, I'll go get some.” She starts to stand and you reluctantly let go of her hand, and she gets up and walks away, casting glances over her shoulder at you until she's out of sight.

 

You lean back on the couch again, closing your eyes, and you sigh. You're in deep, murky water and you know it. You feel things for her that are more than a friend should feel for another friend. Especially when the first friend is engaged to someone else. But you don't want it to stop. You can't stop. It feels too good, too perfect, and you want to see it through. You want to be close to her, and you're not sure at what point you would stop yourself. If you would. It's getting dangerous, and that thrill seeker in you, the one that never quite faded away with the rest of you, is ready for it. You're just waiting for the rest of you to catch up.

 


	4. i get so breathless when you call my name

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title and quote from Breathless by Corrine Bailey Rae.
> 
> Warning for anxiety attacks. 
> 
> Thank you Tasha for always reading my shit and telling me it doesn't suck before I post it.
> 
> Gimme your thoughts at the end!

_"I've often wondered, do you feel the same?_  
_There's a chemistry, energy, a synchronicity_  
_When we're all alone_  
_So don't tell me_  
_You can't see_  
_What I'm thinking of"_

 

* * *

 

You can't breathe. Your thoughts are racing. Dizziness. You feel like your heart will pound its way out of your chest at any moment, and you really thought these moments weren't happening anymore. It's been awhile. You drop your head in between your knees and try to breathe like one of your old therapists had taught you. In for five beats, out for five beats, in for five, out for five...

 

The hot pain of tears burns behind your eyelids, and you swear you're not going to start crying at work. It's bad enough you're having an anxiety attack. You try to block out your thoughts, but they're circling in your head. Jason. Trini. Your feelings. _You_. You've been such a disaster your whole life, and you don't know how to stop. Then you had to drag your best friend into it all. Both of them. Because Trini is becoming your best friend, too. You spend more time with her; you go to her apartment after Krispy Kreme most nights and talk or watch movies. Sometimes Billy joins you. Sometimes it's just the two of you, sitting close on the couch, but not touching. The more time you spend together the more you both avoid touching each other, and it kills you because all you want to do is touch her. You want to hold her hand, stroke her skin, and so much more. And it kills you. And you're fucking it all up, just like you always have.

 

The breathing isn't helping. You're glad no one is in the exhibit at the moment. You grab your phone, vision blurry, and quickly pull up Trini's name and call her. With a trembling hand you bring the phone to your ear and listen to it ring, all the while telling yourself that she hates you and isn't going to pick up.

 

But then she does.

 

“Hey, Kimberly,” she says, sounding a little distracted. It's not the right time. You shouldn't have called her. Oh god, why can't you handle this on your own? “Kimberly?” She sounds more concerned now, and you don't want to concern her. You don't want to be a bother. “Kim. What's wrong? Talk to me.”

 

“I c-can't...breathe,” you gasp out.

 

“What? Did something happen?”

 

“I...I can't...”

 

“Okay. Okay, Kimberly, take a deep breath in for me, okay?” You nod, even though she can't see you, and you breathe in. “Good...good, now let it out slowly.” You do. “Again. In...and out...” You breathe by her instruction several times, and slowly you start to feel like your lungs work. You're still shaky, still feel like crying, but you're better.

 

“Sorry,” you whisper.

 

“Don't be sorry. Are you okay now? Do you need me to come get you?”

 

“No, don't do that,” you say. “You've got better things to do.”

 

“Than help you? Not likely,” she replies.

 

Your heart swells, like it tends to do around her, and you feel your heartbeat getting back to normal. At least, as normal as it gets around her. “Thank you.”

 

“You're welcome. Wanna tell me what that was about?”

 

“I just...get these attacks,” you explain carefully. “They never get easier.”

 

“I can imagine. What set it off?”

 

You can't tell her that it was partially her. “Just...my head.”

 

“You know if you need to talk about it, I'm here.”

 

“I know, Trin. Thank you.”

 

“Stop thanking me.”

 

“I want to.”

 

“You don't need to,” she says.

 

“Yes, I do.”

 

She sighs, and you can hear her smile. “Fine. You gonna be okay now?”

 

“I think so. Yeah.”

 

“Okay, call me again if you need help.”

 

“I will,” you promise.

 

“Bye, Kimberly.”

 

“Bye, Trini.”

 

You put your phone away and take another deep breath. You don't want to start thinking again, but there isn't much to do at the moment _but_ to think. You've straightened everything up in the room, you vacuumed, and all the dinosaurs are as they should be.

 

But you need to think. You need to figure out what the hell is happening in your life, because it feels like a major shift is coming, and you have to figure out how you'll tread the water. You go back to Jason's text, asking if you can be home for dinner tonight, and you sigh. You don't want to be. Maybe that's what set off the attack. Because you don't want to miss your evening with Trini. You don't want to miss seeing her little smirks and eye rolls, and that small smile she gets when she's happy about something. You live for those smiles. And for her eyes. For the way they look into you, deep down, and try to read everything about your soul. If she really could see your soul...she'd see how dirty it was. Not a soul worth holding onto, in your opinion.

 

Maybe you _should_ see a therapist again. You don't want to. You've seen several throughout your life, and you hate it. You hate when people tell you what to do and how to work out your problems. You've never liked people telling you what to do, period. And, okay, you'll admit that maybe you don't give therapy much of a chance, but you fuck up. It's what you do. What can therapy do to stop that?

 

You hear a group of people coming into the exhibit, and you feel relief. It's just what you need. A welcome distraction.

 

* * *

 

You told Trini you'd be late meeting her, and you are super late. It's past eight when you finally get near the Krispy Kreme, so you instead go straight to her apartment. You know that's where you'll find her. You hit the buzzer outside the building.

 

“Hello?” Her voice echoes out of it, and it brings a smile to your lips.

 

“It's me,” you say. You like that you can say that and she knows.

 

“Come up,” she replies, buzzing the door open for you. You open it and go up the stairs to her floor, then down the hall to her door. It's cracked open so you let yourself in. You immediately see her curled up on the couch under a blanket.

 

“Hey,” you say. You close the door and lock the deadbolt, then walk over and sit beside her. She looks over at you and smiles warmly.

 

“Hey. Everything good?”

 

Everything isn't good, but you're not sure you want to talk about it. “Everything's good,” you lie. She stares at you a moment, and you know she doesn't believe you, but she doesn't say anything about it. She just nods. “How are you?”

 

“Good,” she says. “Was just waiting for you. It's your turn to pick what to watch.”

 

“You can pick,” you tell her. You're not really in the mood to watch anything.

 

“Want some tea? Or I can make you coffee?”

 

“Tea sounds good,” you nod.

 

“Okay.” She gets up and heads for the kitchen, and you admire how she looks in her sweatpants and black tee shirt. Even like that, especially like that, she's beautiful. You get up and follow her, and when you get to the kitchen you push yourself up to sit on the counter. It's not the first time you've joined her in the kitchen. She glances at you, a small smirk on her lips, and starts the kettle. “I like how comfortable you are at my place.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Mhmm.” She takes out a mug and puts a tea bag in it. “So. What happened?”

 

You knew it wouldn't take long. “What do you mean?”

 

“You were late. What happened?” She steps over to where you're sitting and crosses her arms. You know you're not getting out of it. You could tell her you really don't want to talk about it, and she'll let it go, but opening up to her gets easier by the day.

 

“Jase just wanted to talk,” you say. “He was concerned about me being out every night and never seeing me anymore.”

 

“What? Does he think you're cheating or something?”

 

“What?” You voice may have been a little high pitched with that. “No. I mean...maybe. He asked if I'm really hanging out with you all the time. I told him I was. He said he'd like it if it weren't every night.”

 

“Well...we don't have to hang out every night,” she says.

 

“No, we don't,” you agree. But you don't agree. You have to see her. It's what gets you through every day. The thought of going longer without seeing Trini makes you miserable.

 

“I mean, it makes sense,” she says with a shrug. “He's your fiance. He wants to see you, too. I don't blame him. If you were my-” She stops and shakes her head. You want to know what she would say if she finished that sentence, but maybe it's for the best she not.

 

“Maybe every other night?” You ask.

 

“Or a couple nights a week,” she suggests.

 

“Oh...yeah...I-I guess...” Your head drops. That's even worse to you. Suddenly she's even closer, and her fingers are lifting your chin until you meet her eyes. They're soft, lighter.

 

“I'd still see you every night if we could,” she says. “But he's your-”

 

“Yeah,” you say, not needing to be told again.

 

“We can still text and call, we'll be good,” she promises.

 

“Monday, Wednesday, and Saturday,” you offer.

 

“Sounds good to me,” she nods. She lets go of your chin and you keep your head up on your own. You know now what your favorite days of the week will be.

 

She's still standing close, staring at you, and you're staring back. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth. She's making you nervous. She looks at you like she can read your world, and you don't know that you want her to. You're sure she wouldn't like what she reads. She places her hands on either side of the counter from your hips.

 

“Now, you wanna tell me about that phone call?” She raises her brow, and you could swear that she just asked you to take off your clothes. You feel panicky and wonder if you're starting to sweat.

 

“What?” Is all you can get out, and it's a weakened word at that.

 

“You called me and you couldn't breathe,” she reminds you. “What happened?”

 

You can't think with her that close. Her scent is invading you, and she smells so good. Like brown sugar or something equally smooth and sweet. Dark. Inviting. God, she's so inviting. All you would have to do is lean in just a little to connect your lips. And now you're staring at her lips. They quirk up, like she knows, and you immediately look up into her eyes. Mistake. They're staring at you so intently, and you're shrinking away into nothingness.

 

“Kimberly.”

 

“I just...get these dumb anxiety attacks,” you tell her, feeling foolish. You look away, over her shoulder. “They suck.”

 

“I bet,” she answers. She tucks your hair behind your ear. “Do you know what caused it?”

 

You shudder. “Over-thinking...until I can't control it.”

 

“Over-thinking about what?” Her hand is back by your side, and you think it's safer there.

 

“My life,” you answer honestly. You can't help but to be honest with her. “Jase.... _you_.” The last word is quieter, and you're surprised you got it out at all.

 

“What about me?” She asks, equally quiet.

 

“...I don't know.” More like, you can't say. She must sense it, because she doesn't push you to say more about it.

 

“Okay. Well...when you do, you can talk to me about it.” You just nod. You know that she has an idea of what it is that's bothering you about her...about you both...and you wonder how she can so easily let it go. How it's not consuming her like it is you. Her fingers are on your chin again and she turns your head back to focus on her. You meet her gaze. “You don't have to stress yourself out about anything with me, okay?” Her eyes are deep and promising. “I'm not gonna stop being your friend.”

 

“You don't know everything about me,” you reply too quick. You say it without thinking, and you wish you could take it back.

 

“Maybe not. But you don't know everything about me either. We'll learn in time. That's what friends do.”

 

She's so patient and understanding, and you don't know how you managed to become friends with her or earn her devotion. You're glad you did. You nod to her words. “Okay.”

 

She smiles softly and nods back. “Okay,” she repeats. “I think that hot water is ready.” She stares at you a beat longer before pushing herself back from the counter and turning to the kettle. She pours the hot water into the two waiting mugs, and hands you one. “Want to watch Netflix?”

 

“Yes, please,” you answer, taking your mug. Anything to stop talking about things you're not prepared to talk about.

 

* * *

 

**Trini: Hey you coming over tonight?**

**2 missed calls Trini**

**Trini: I'm headed to bed. Missed seeing you.**

**Trini: Good morning. Hope everything was okay last night. Have a good day.**

**1 missed call Trini**

**Trini: You doing okay? Haven't heard from you in a few days**

**Trini: Can you text me back and let me know you're okay?**

**5 missed calls Trini**

**Trini: Seriously Kimberly, call me or text me. I'm really worried.**

**4 missed calls Trini**

**Trini: It's been a week. You ignoring me? Is this really how it's gonna go? If you're done with me at least grow a pair and tell me. What the hell is going on?**

**You: i'm sorry. i know it's been a couple of weeks. i'm just really sorry. can we meet?**

**Trini: Why should I bother?**

**You: because i'm a piece of shit and i'm also really sorry i haven't been in contact. i can explain it all in person. if you'll meet me.**

**Trini: Seven tonight.**

**You: i'll be there.**

 

You show up at the Krispy Kreme at 6:45. You want to make sure to beat her there. You get in line for your drinks, and when you get to the register Zack is frowning at you. You roll your eyes.

 

“What?”

 

“Haven't seen you in awhile,” he says. “Are you quitting me?”

 

“I quit you the moment I met you,” you answer, but there's a smirk on your lips.

 

“No free donuts for you today,” he admonishes.

 

“Fine. Then I'll take a coffee, a hot chocolate, and two chocolate donuts. And I'll pay for it all.” You raise a brow at him in challenge.

 

“That's not fair. I have to give you what you want.” He keys it all into the register. “Really though, how ya been?” He asks like he cares, and you wonder why he would. You're just a customer. You shouldn't mean anything to him. But he's looking at you like the opposite is true. You raise a shoulder in a half shrug. “Things have been kinda crazy,” you tell him.

 

“Happens to all of us,” he nods. He tells you your total and you pull out the cash for it.

 

“How have you been, Zack?” You ask as you hand it to him. He smiles, like no one has asked him all day, and you wonder if anyone has. You wonder if he has someone to ask him that every day. You don't know much about the man, you admit.

 

“I've been good, thanks, Pink,” he answers with a chuckle. He gives you your change and grabs your donuts. “Drinks will be right up.”

 

You wait for the drinks then take everything to your usual booth, the one that's empty and waiting for you, as though it knew you needed it tonight. You slide into your usual side and put Trini's hot chocolate down across from yourself. You take the lid off your coffee to allow it to cool a little, and you set the donuts up. You sit back, hands in your lap, and you stare at the door as you wait for her. You're taken back to just months before, when you would wait for your chance to see her every day, and you feel that familiar excitement run through your veins. You haven't seen her in two weeks, and that is much too long. In the three months now that you've known her, those two weeks were the longest you'd gone without seeing her, and they were torture.

 

The bell above the door chimes and she walks in. She's gorgeous. She's wearing jeans and a hoodie, but to you she may as well be wearing a gown. Her beautiful hair hangs down around her shoulders, and there's now a blonde ombre effect happening, and you hadn't thought she could be more beautiful but she proved you wrong. On top of her head is a snapback that says 'reckless', and you think she's anything but. She looks over at you, and instead of the shining smile you might normally receive, she just gives you a nod of her head. You feel disappointment, because you know this conversation will be hard.

 

She walks over and sits down across from you. She looks at her hot chocolate and donut, then back up at you. She stares. Waiting. Not even a hello. You clear your throat and lick your lips, and you stare down into your coffee.

 

“Me and Jase had a fight,” you start off, quietly. “A bad one. I had another anxiety attack. That night that I was supposed to come meet you. He was really scared, I guess, but it came off as angry. It made it worse. He wanted to take me to a doctor, but I didn't want to go. I knew it would pass and I'd be okay. So I locked myself in the bathroom until I could get myself under control. When I came out he started on me about how it's not normal, and I need to see a doctor, and I should find a therapist. I started telling him I'd be okay and I didn't need to see anyone, and he said I clearly haven't been okay for awhile. I tried to leave. I tried to tell him I had somewhere to be, but he said I shouldn't. He said seeing you wasn't a priority over my health, and he didn't get that seeing you....it makes me feel better. And he-”

 

Trini raised a hand. “I'm not here to listen to your domestic problems,” she said coldly. “I'm here to hear why you ghosted me for two weeks.”

 

You gulp. She's never spoken to you like that before, and you don't like it. You thought you were explaining it to her, but maybe you were getting too long winded. You take a breath. “We had a bad fight and I didn't come over that night, and I should have texted you to explain it, but I didn't. Then I felt guilty, and I didn't know how to explain myself to you. After that night, he was on me a lot about doing something about my attacks. Other things were said in our fight, things about you, that made me feel...bad about our friendship. Like...like I've been neglecting Jason too much. So I thought...some time away from you would make things better with him. That it would show him I can be okay and don't need a therapist.” You're staring into your coffee again, wishing you could dive into the hot liquid.

 

“You coulda told me you needed time apart,” she says. And you know she's right. God, she's right and you fucked up. “And, it's not my place, but maybe he's right. Maybe you need someone to talk to. Professionally. Cause I don't wanna be that person.”

 

You look at her with wide eyes. “I don't want you to be that person,” you tell her honestly. “I want you to be my...”

 

“Your what?” And her look is challenging. You almost fall into it.

 

“Friend,” you answer. “That's all.”

 

“That's all?”

 

“Trini...please...” You feel hot tears well up in your eyes. You don't want to cry in front of her, in front of anyone, but you don't want this cold, uncaring Trini in place of _your_ Trini. Your warm, kind-hearted Trini who's understanding and caring.

 

“Please, what?” She crosses her arms and stares you down. “I get that you're having problems, but it's not an excuse. What's to stop you from doing it again?”

 

“I won't,” you promise.

 

“How can I know that?”

 

You reach across the table and, desperately, grab hold of her hand. You squeeze it tightly. Maybe too tightly. “Because I said so,” you answer. You stare back at her, willing her to believe you and forgive you. She drops her head and looks down.

 

“I was worried about you,” she says quietly. “And then I was hurt. Really hurt. Like...I hadn't realized I'd let you get that close to hurt me that bad...”

 

“Trini....I'm so sorry.” You squeeze her hand again, and a few unfortunate tears slip down your face. She happens to look up at you at the same time. “I wish I'd handled it better. I told you, though. I told you I'm a fuck up.”

 

“Stop.”

 

“I am,” you insist. “I-”

 

“Stop talking about yourself like that,” she says insistently. Her hand turns around in yours to grasp it back. “You're _not_ a fuck up.”

 

“But I hurt you.”

 

“Yeah, you did.” She nods. She reaches your joined hands across the table and wipes at your tears with her thumb. “But I still care about you. I'm still here.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because I can't turn away,” she answers. She lets your hands fall to the table.

 

“He found a therapist for me,” you tell her.

 

“I think it could help.”

 

“It never has before.”

 

“You have to let it,” she says.

 

“Have you ever seen one?” Maybe you're too nosy, but you want to know.

 

“Yeah. In high school. Mama Candace took me to one after everything with my parents. She wanted me to be able to talk to someone about it, and have someone qualified to help me handle it all. I think I'd be a lot more lost now if I hadn't gone. And it wasn't easy. I didn't want to go, I didn't want to talk to some stranger about the...single hardest thing in my life...but eventually she got me to open up, and it really did help. I went again a couple years ago when I was struggling, and it helped then, too. You just...have to be open to it, Kimberly.”

 

“I'm not.”

 

“I know. But it couldn't hurt to try, could it?”

 

“I just wanna talk to you,” you say, earnestly.

 

“I know, babe,” she squeezes your hand and your heart constricts at the term of endearment. “But I can't be that person.”

 

“I know,” you answer quietly.

 

“But I'm still here. I'll still listen.”

 

“So you're not gonna leave me?” You must sound pathetic asking that, and the way your brown eyes are wide and needy.

 

“No. I'm not,” she promises. She brings your hand up and kisses the back of it. “I'm here.”

 

“Thank you,” you gasp.

 

“You're welcome,” she whispers, kissing your hand again and holding it at her lips. “So,” she says, letting your hands rest on the table again. “What did he have to say about me? In that fight of yours?”

 

You start getting nervous again. Your eyes dart around but eventually land on hers again. A moth to the flame. “Just that he doesn't get why I have to see you so much, and how can you and I have so much to talk about if I never talk to him. He's...insecure. I told him he has no reason to be. People need friends.”

 

“People do need friends,” she agrees. “If he's that insecure it sounds like it's his own problem. Like maybe he needs to do some introspection.”

 

“I guess,” you agree vaguely.

 

“Was that it?”

 

“Pretty much.”

 

“It sounds like he's trying to control you, Kimberly. He already told you you're only allowed to see me so many times a week.”

 

“No. He didn't _tell_ me. He just asked that I be home more. And it was fair,” you argue on his behalf.

 

“Okay, okay...” she relents. “But nothing else about me other than that?”

 

“No. It was mostly about me.”

 

“You know...I think you're pretty great the way you are.”

 

“Really?” You're not sure you believe her. You're not sure why you should believe her.

 

“Really. Okay, you have some stuff that you need to talk out with a professional, but who doesn't?”

 

“Yeah...I guess you're right.”

 

“Of course I am,” she smirks.

 

You squeeze her hand. “I think....I think you're really great, too.”

 

“You do?”

 

“Mhmm. And...I'm sorry. Again. I....really missed you. I thought about texting you non-stop, but I didn't want to drop my baggage on you. I didn't want to concern you.”

 

“You can always text me. Even when you're having the shittiest day of your life. You can still text me, and I'll be here.”

 

“Why are you so good to me?” You ask.

 

“Because. You're my best friend,” she admits.

 

“What about Billy?”

 

“After Billy.”

 

“I can accept that,” you say with a smile and nod. She chuckles, and you're filled with warmth at the sight of her smile and the sound out of her lips. It's something that could easily fuel you through life, and you're determined to make her do it again and again, instead of the cold, distant Trini that was here just moments before.

 

* * *

 

“How did the first session go?”

 

You're at Trini's, you're settled on the couch beside her, and she's flipping through Netflix while she decides what you two are going to watch for the night. You sigh at her question. You knew she would ask it, but you had hoped it would wait until you'd at least been there fifteen minutes. Sadly, not so. “It was okay,” you answer. “It was mostly basic stuff. My history, my current life...stuff for her to get to know me.”

 

“Sounds about right,” she nods.

 

“She says there must be something going on in my life that's causing me to have so much anxiety like that.”

 

Trini makes a sound that sounds a bit like a snort, but you can't be sure. “What'd you tell her?”

 

“That....my life is pretty normal,” you say. “I'm with Jason, I have a job...I have friends.”

 

“Friends?” Her tone is challenging, and you don't look at her because you know she's looking at you with a look.

 

“Yeah...you...Billy...Zack...” You know you're stretching the term 'friends' here, but it makes you sound less pathetic than saying you only have one friend.

 

“Right,” she says. “And?”

 

“And she says there must be something deeper, and that we'll talk about it more in time.”

 

“That's good. She's not pushing you.”

 

“I guess.”

 

“You still don't want to go?”

 

“No.”

 

“It'll be good for you.”

 

You're tired of hearing that. _It'll be good for you_. Jason says it. Trini says it. Your therapist says it. You know what would be good for you, but it's not something you let yourself think about. Or even _think_ about thinking about. You cast it out of your mind. “Sleep would be good for me,” you mutter. Because you barely sleep anymore. You try. You toss and turn so much that you end up on the couch so that Jason will be able to sleep before he gets up to go to work.

 

“Why didn't you say you're tired? You didn't have to come over.”

 

“I wanted to see you.”

 

“You can take a nap if you want,” she offers.

 

“I didn't come here to take a nap,” you tell her. “I came here to see you.”

 

“Then I'll take a nap with you,” she says.

 

“Trini...”

 

“Kimberly.” And she says your name in a way that makes you know she's not kidding around. She gets to her feet after turning off the TV, and she extends a hand to you. “A short nap.”

 

“I won't be able to sleep,” you warn. You take her hand and let her pull you up, and she's smiling at you as she tugs you down the hallway.

 

“You haven't tried sleeping in my bed,” she says. “It's the comfiest bed you'll ever meet.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Mhmm.” She pulls you into her room, and as she flicks on the light you look around. You've never been in it before. It's very minimalist; white with pale yellow walls, and you think it suits her. Not what you would have imagined, but fitting nonetheless. She drops your hands and goes to her dresser. “Can't have you napping in jeans.”

 

“Uh...no offense, Trin, but I don't think your stuff will fit me...”

 

She laughs at that and tosses you a pair of sweatpants. “These are Billy's. I stole them from him a few years ago. They'll fit.” You shrug, willing to try, then look around. You don't want to change right there in front of her.

 

“I'll...just go put these on,” you say. You leave her room and walk down to the bathroom she shares with Billy, and you lock the door. You pull your jeans off and step into the sweatpants, and they do in fact fit you quite nicely. They're a dark blue, and they're soft from years of use. You take your jeans with you and go back to Trini's room and let yourself in, and aren't even thinking, and you stop in your tracks when you see her from behind. She's wearing short, tight boxer briefs, and pulling a smaller pair of sweatpants up her hips. You cover your eyes quickly. She must have turned around, because she's laughing again. (And if you could bottle that laugh and wear it around your neck you might never have an anxiety attack again.)

 

“It's okay,” she assures you. “I'm not wearin' a thong or anything.”

 

You blush at the images that brings to mind, but slowly drop your hand. She's facing you in her gray sweatpants and a Nine Inch Nails tee. “Sorry,” you say.

 

“Don't worry about it. Drop those.” She nods her head towards the bed and you stare at it, suddenly feeling hot all over. You're not so sure about crawling into a bed with her. Friends can do that, can't they? Sure. Sure, friends do that. You put your jeans on the floor and walk around to the opposite side of the bed from her. She pulls back the blankets and sits down, so you do the same. You admire that she's a 'make your bed' kind of person. You're a 'why make it when you'll just mess it up again' kind of person through and through. You both move down under the blankets and lay back before pulling them up over your chests. She folds an arm under her head and looks over at you. “Is it comfy for what?”

 

“V-very,” you squeak. She can probably tell you're all nerves. But you have nothing to be nervous about. It's just a nap. You quickly close your eyes, because you can't bear looking at her across from the bed that you're _sharing_. You feel prickly all over your skin, like she's still looking at you, but you keep your eyes shut.

 

“Try and get some rest,” she says, before turning off the lamp.

 

It doesn't take long before you feel hot and sweaty all over. You didn't even realize you were thinking about anything, but you're starting to panic. You gasp for breath and squeeze your eyes shut, and you try to control it. It's okay. You're just friends. Having a nap. Friends do it all the time, and you have nothing to feel guilty over. But you do. You feel guilty that you're laying beside someone who isn't Jason, and you feel more guilty that you like it. You like the calming presence of her body next to yours, even though you're anything but calm at the moment. Her hand suddenly searches for and finds yours under the blankets and she gives it a squeeze.

 

“Deep breaths,” she whispers.

 

“I-I'm trying...” you gasp. You take in a choked breath and cough it out. She's closer to you now. Her arm is around your mid-section and her lips are beside your ear.

 

“Deep breath in...” she whispers.

 

You do.

 

“And out....”

 

You let it out.

 

“In...” She settles insanely closer and tugs you over against her chest. You head rests somewhere against her neck and chest, and you can hear her heartbeat pounding away. It's fast, but it's steady. You focus on that. “Out..” You exhale.

 

“One more time for me,” she says, now stroking your back slowly. “In...and out...” When you exhale you feel her nails lightly scratch at your back. “Good. How're you feeling?”

 

“Okay.”

 

“Good. Just keep breathing. You're safe. You're okay.”

 

Again in her presence, you feel tears sting behind your lids, and you try not to cry. You refuse to cry into the fabric of her shirt, where she'll feel the tears bleed into her skin. “Thank you,” you whisper.

 

“I'm here,” she reminds you. “Get some rest, okay?”

 

“Okay.” You try to keep focused on the sound of her heartbeat, and it does help. Her scent invading your senses helps. But then something starts to help even more. She starts to talk to you.

 

“When I was fourteen, I fell in love with a girl for the first time,” she begins. Her voice, the feel of it bouncing around inside her chest, lulls you. “She was...a cheerleader. I was the loner outcast, and I used to sit under the bleachers on the football field to get away from everyone. It was the perfect place to watch the cheerleaders without being seen, too. Not, like, in a pervert way, but....fascination. She was special, though. Justine. Sometimes she would smile at me in the hallways, and even though she probably didn't even know my name, it made me feel special. She only ever spoke to me once, and it was to ask if I had the notes from a class she had skipped. Of course, I gave them to her. And...she wasn't the first sign I had that I was gay, but I think she was the first big sign that I really thought...wow, I could kiss a girl and enjoy it. Maybe it would be okay.”

 

“What happened?” You ask softly, enraptured by her, but feeling the pull of sleep deep within your body.

 

“Nothing. We moved, and I never saw her again. But the next place we lived, the next girl I saw that made me feel that way, I did kiss.”

 

“And you liked it?”

 

“So much,” she says, and you both laugh. Her fingers are now carding through your hair, and if you could purr you would be doing so. “Her name was Addie, and I swore I loved her, too. She had the longest, black hair...”

 

That's all you heard before falling asleep. And you didn't just fall asleep, you crashed. From the feel of her arms around you, and her voice, and her heartbeat against your ear, you fell into the deepest sleep you'd had in a very long time. And she eventually fell asleep, too. And you both slept, and slept, and slept some more. You slept so long that the sun rose and shone its light into her bedroom window. It bounced off the yellow walls and into your faces, and you began to stir about the same time. And the first thing that registered to you was the gentleness that surrounded you, and the heartbeat in your ear. The second? That it was morning. You had slept at Trini's all night. You had slept at Trini's all night, and you hadn't sent a single word of it to Jason.

 

You bolt up, fear consuming you, and you clench the bedding beneath you in your hands. “Oh, god...” you whisper.

 

Trini doesn't move beside you, still mostly asleep. “C'm'back t'bed, baby,” she murmurs in a thick, sleep-ridden voice. And you're filled with too much panic to question what she just called you in her sleepy haze. You jump out of the bed and find your jeans on the floor to dig your phone out of. Unsurprisingly, you have multiple texts and missed calls from Jason. You don't even read them. You press the phone to the floor, face down, and you close your eyes as you try to breathe.

 

“Kim?” Trini sounds a little more awake. “Kim? What is it?” You hear her sit up in the bed, and you know she's watching you, but you just shake your head unable to speak. “Oh, fuck,” she says, finally cluing in. “Oh god, Kimberly, I'm so sorry.” She rushes over to your side, drops on her knees, and looks at you. “Kimberly? ...Kim. Talk to me.”

 

You can't. You can't speak. You can't think. You just can't.

 


	5. would you lie with me and just forget the world?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all. So I bring you, not the chapter I wanted to bring, but a chapter. I've been having severe writer's block and am in a slump, so instead of pressuring myself to finish this chapter I'm going to give you what I have so far. I don't know when another update will come, for any of my stories, so I really, really hope you like this one. I haven't been able to add to it to improve it from what it is. I apologize now if you have to wait awhile to see what happens. 
> 
> Chapter title and quote from Chasing Cars by Snow Patrol. It really fits the chapter about halfway in. Enjoy some more Kim and Trini pining!

_i need your grace_   
_to remind me_   
_to find my own_   
  
_if i lay here_   
_if i just lay here_   
_would you lay with me_   
_and just forget the world?_

* * *

 

“Okay, Kimberly, take a deep breath,” Trini says at your side. You squeeze your eyes shut and do as she says. She's rubbing your back and you feel her hair brushing your arm. It makes you shiver. It also brings back the insane amount of guilt to churn through you. “You need to call him,” she says then. You nod. You know she's right. But you're terrified.

 

“He's gonna be mad,” you whisper.

 

“He's going to be worried,” she corrects. “He might sound mad, but he'll just be worried. Call him.”

 

“Okay...” You bring the phone up and she starts to get up, but you grab her arm. “Stay,” you beg of her. You're looking at her and she meets your eyes, and you see how unsure she looks in the moment. “Please,” you add on. She nods and settles back down. She's not touching you anymore and you feel it like a void. You try to ignore it as you call him. You bring the phone to your ear and take another deep breath, closing your eyes and letting it out.

 

“Kim?!” He answers immediately. “Where the hell have you been?!”

 

You try to remind yourself that he's not really angry. His voice doesn't help your anxiety though. “I'm so sorry, Jase,” you say quickly. “I was watching a movie at Trini's and we fell asleep. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I worried you.”

 

“Jesus, Kim...” He exhales harshly and you know he's running his fingers through his hair in that frustrated way he does. “I didn't know where you were!”

 

“You did though...” You don't want to argue, but it comes out. “I was at Trini's.”

 

“That doesn't exactly make me feel better,” he says.

 

“What does that mean?”

 

“It means...god, I don't know. Just...come home, okay? I already told the guys I'd be into the shop later today.”

 

“No, Jase, go to work. Don't do that because of me.”

 

“Come home,” he says, and his tone assures you that he's serious.

 

You open your eyes and look over at Trini. She's looking at the floor and biting her lip, and you have more concern for what she's feeling at the moment than what Jason is. You know how terrible that makes you. “Okay,” you agree. “I'll be home soon.”

 

“Good,” he says, before ending the call.

 

You drop your phone in your lap and continue watching Trini. “I...have to go,” you say slowly.

 

“I heard,” she nodded. “He's loud when he's worried.”

 

“...yeah.”

 

“Kimberly. Don't...take this wrong, but...how mad does he get at you?” She looks up at you uncertainly, like she's embarrassed to ask the question. You frown, unsure what she means.

 

“Just...normal mad, I guess,” you answer. “Why?”

 

“No reason.” She shakes her head and takes your hand gently. “I just wanna know you're safe.”

 

You quickly understand what she means and you're shaking your head fervently. “No. No, not like that. He wouldn't...he never...” You stop and take a breath. You squeeze her hand. “You don't have to worry,” you promise.

 

“I don't think I can ever stop worrying about you,” she says with a small laugh. She reaches up and tucks your hair behind her ear. “It's...something that turned on and won't turn off.”

 

Your eyes close at her touch and you lean into it. “Please don't worry.”

 

“That's like saying please don't care about you.”

 

“Don't do that either,” you say, almost with a whimper.

 

“I think we both know it's too late for that.”

 

You open your eyes again and look at her, and she's staring back at you with an intensity you can't name. “Trin...”

 

“I like when you call me that,” she murmurs, her fingers still in your hair.

 

“I wish I could stay here.”

 

“I know. Me too.” She gives you a soft smile and takes her hand away. You miss it immediately. “But you've gotta go see your fiance, and I need to go to work.”

 

You think about how easy it would be to lean closer and kiss her lips, and right away you scold yourself for thinking it. You can't. You want to, god you want to, but you can't think that way. You notice her eyes have fallen to your lips. You clear your throat and get to your feet. “I should change,” you say, waving at the sweatpants.

 

“Good idea,” she nods. She hands you your jeans and you take them, and your fingers brush, and her eyes are on yours, and you have to tear yourself away and leave the room.

 

* * *

 

 

**Trini: How did it go?**

**You: fine**

**Trini: Fine? That's all?**

**Trini: Okay it's been all day. Don't stop talking to me again or we'll have problems.**

**You: sorry**

**You: he's mad. he thinks you're a bad influence.**

**Trini: I probably am. So what? It's our friendship not his.**

**You: it's not that easy. i'm gonna be his wife. i have to do what he says.**

**Trini: Now that's some old school bullshit. Don't tell me he's pounding his chest and making you do what he wants.**

**You: you don't understand.**

**Trini: Make me.**

**You: i don't know how.**

**Trini: Because you can't.**

**You: i don't want to argue with you.**

**Trini: Then stop being a goddamn victim.**

**Trini: I didn't mean that.**

**Trini: I'm sorry Kim.**

**Trini: You have every right to be mad at me. If you want to forgive me and let me explain what I meant, I will. Call me when you're ready.**

 

You stare at your phone and the last few messages that came in over the last few hours. The most recent was an hour ago, and you have looked at it a dozen times or so. You glance over at Jason asleep beside you and let out a sigh. You were hurt and angry by what Trini called you, and you couldn't believe it had come from her of all people, but you hate being mad at her. You hate that she was being so kind with her apologies and understanding in giving you time. You slip out of the bed and walk out of the bedroom, across the living room, and out the door to the small terrace. You slide the door shut and shiver a little as you bring your phone up and stare at her message again. Without another thought you call her.

 

“Kimberly. Hey,” she answers.

 

Your eyes close and a certain calmness settles over you at the sound of her voice. “Hi,” you murmur.

 

“I'm sorry.” She sounds sincere, and you know she is. Everything about her is sincere and real. It's one of the things you like about her.

 

“I know,” you answer. You can't tell her it's okay, because it isn't. You stand against the railing and look out at the city. “I do have to respect his feelings,” you begin. “We're going to be married, and...that's what you do. It doesn't mean I'm going to do every little thing he says.”

 

“I don't want you to be in that situation,” she says. “I don't want him to....make you disappear.”

 

“He doesn't like our friendship,” you tell her.

 

“Why?” There's so much weight behind that question, and you hear it and feel it, and you close your eyes.

 

“He knows you're gay.”

 

“So I'm the predatory lesbian?”

 

“I don't know,” you sigh. “I think...I think somehow he knows I'm bi.”

 

“Still doesn't mean anything would happen between us,” she says. Something akin to disappointment runs through you at that statement even though you understand what she's trying to say.

 

“He didn't...say anything. Outright.”

 

“What did he say?”

 

“Well...it slipped out a couple weeks ago. He asked if you had a boyfriend, and we were fighting, so I just yelled that no you're gay. He kind of stood there a minute and then asked...if maybe you were into me.”

 

“What'd you say?”

 

“I said no. That's we're just friends.”

 

“...yeah,” she says uncertainly. “So, I mean, what makes you think he knows you're bi?”

 

“I don't know. I just...know him. Maybe...maybe he's always known.”

 

“Or maybe he thinks the evil lesbian is corrupting you,” she teases.

 

“Maybe,” you chuckle. “With your boobs and your...” you trail off, going red, and you're glad she can't see you.

 

“Think about my boobs often, Kimberly?”

 

You want to bury your head in the sand. “Trini,” you whine. She laughs, and the sound is beautiful.

 

“I'm kidding. I get it.”

 

“I think...I think this...us...is gonna be a big problem with Jase,” you finally say, more serious. “He really doesn't like it, and I don't think he trusts me.”

 

“He should,” she replies quickly.

 

“I don't know if I do,” you say quietly, and you don't know how you found the nerve to. It slipped out.

 

She's quiet for a long time, so long that you check your phone to see if she's still there, and when you hold it back to your ear, she speaks. “Why not?” It's soft, barely there.

 

“I like how you make me feel.” Your heart is pounding, and the truth is flowing from your lips, and you're not sure how to turn it off.

 

“I like how you make me feel, too,” she replies. “But...he doesn't have to worry. Nothing's going to happen between us.” You feel your heart drop and you close your eyes, disappointment coursing through you. “Not while you're with him,” she adds, and there's so much weight to that statement that you don't know what to do with it.

 

“I know,” you say.

 

“Kim...” Her voice sounds sad and dejected, and you hate it.

 

“What?”

 

“...come over.”

 

“Now? I-I can't. Jason's sleeping, and if he wakes up-”

 

“Leave him a note that I had an emergency or something.”

 

You consider this. You know he'll be mad if you do it, but the idea of seeing Trini is so appealing. So appealing that you just can't say no. “Okay,” you agree. “I'll be there in, like, half an hour.”

 

“I'll be waiting.”

 

* * *

 

 

When you get to Trini's, still in your pajamas, she holds your hands and holds your gaze and walks backwards to pull you to her bedroom.

 

“Trin...”

 

“I just wanna hold you,” she whispers. You nod, and you let her pull you into her bedroom and over to her bed. You climb under the covers with her and lay down with your head on her chest. She sighs and starts running her fingers through your hair, and you close your eyes in contentment. “This is better,” she says.

 

“It is,” you agree. You snuggle against her, tightening your arm around her waist, and you feel your heart pounding. You're both quiet for a long time, and eventually you end up with your head on the pillow while you both stare at one another. You're taking in her eyes, eyes that hypnotize you, and you're taking in the slope of her jaw, and her pouty lips. She's still stroking your hair, fingers long and gentle, and she's stroking along your shoulder, down your arm. Your arm is still wrapped around her waist, but your fingers are dancing slowly at the small of her back. It's soft and warm, and you desperately want to map out the rest of her skin with your fingertips and your lips. Your bodies keep moving closer until her hips are pressed to yours, and it's driving you insane. Heat has spread through you and between your legs, and you want nothing more than to find some friction between them, but you won't. You can't.

 

“Kim...” Her soft voice is loud as it breaks the quiet you were sharing.

 

“Call me Kimberly,” you request in a quiet yearn. Because he doesn't.

 

“Kimberly,” she amends.

 

“Yeah?” You're staring into her caring gaze, and it's full of something else that you just can't read.

 

“Are you gonna leave him?”

 

“What?” Your brows furrow. You pull back slightly, but she pulls you close again.

 

“Don't play the ditz,” she says. “You know what I mean. Are you gonna leave him?”

 

Your gaze falls. “I don't know.” You weren't expecting that. You thought you'd both play dumb for awhile longer and never bring it up. You had hoped. You've spent most of your life avoiding things you didn't want to deal with, and you're good at it.

 

“I like being with you.”

 

“I like it, too,” you reply, looking into her golden, inviting eyes again.

 

Her forehead presses to yours, and once more a silence falls between you. This time it pounds between your ears. She's so close you can feel her breath on your lips, and it's driving you insane. Jason is the last thing on your mind. All you can think about is Trini and how close to you she is. Her eyes are holding your gaze, and you stare at one another for long, long time.

 

“I wanna kiss you,” she whispers finally, the wish erupting out fast like she's been holding it in and had to get it out, and you wonder just how long she held it.

 

Your heart catches in your throat, and you hope that wasn't you that just whimpered. You can't speak for a few beats, but finally manage to get sound out. “I...”

 

“I won't,” she adds. “But I want to.”

 

You don't feel brave enough to say what you feel. You're never brave enough to say anything. Where did that come from? How did you become this person that doesn't do what they want to do and say what they want to say?

 

She's starting to pull away, and you can't let her go like that. You can't let her go without saying it. “Me too,” you whisper, desperately. You see some kind of hope spark in her eyes, and she relaxes. She reaches up and cups your cheek, and you close your eyes and lean in to it. “But...”

 

“But, yeah,” she says. “So...back to my question.”

 

“I don't know if I can leave him,” you admit. You meet her eyes. “It'll be terrible.”

 

“It's terrible now,” she says. “It's killing you. I can see it.” Her thumb is stroking your cheek, and you think you could stay in the moment forever. You could stay in this entire night forever. “I want to see the real you.”

 

“This is the real me,” you murmur.

 

“No, it's not,” she argues gently. “You don't have a light in your eyes. Sometimes I see it, but...it's like you've lost it and I wanna put it back in you.”

 

“That's what she said,” you comment wryly, not wanting to touch that conversation. A small smile shows on her lips.

 

“Kimberly.”

 

“You make it sound so easy,” you say slowly, your eyes moving away from hers. “Like it wouldn't....change my entire life.”

 

“It could be a good change,” she suggests. “It...could be good for _us_.”

 

“I'd never hear the end of it from my mother...” You pull away slightly. Just the thought of your mother brings you dread and guilt, especially being that close to Trini.

 

Trini leans up, resting a hand under her head, and she stares at you. “Tell me about her.”

 

You're quiet for a bit, and you don't really know how to put the woman into words. You lift your head on your hand, mirrored to Trini, and keep your gaze on the edge of the pillowcase where it's slightly frayed. Your free hand moves to play with the thread.

 

“For as long as I can remember she always told me that I would have to find a good husband while I'm young and still pretty...” Your voice feels raw talking about it, but you also can't seem to deny Trini's request to know more. “She always instilled this idea...that I could be anything I wanted to be, but I had to have better focus, better ambition, and a good husband. When I started dating Jason, immediately she was on me about how I needed to keep him, because he was good and would give me a good life...how he could put up with me and my 'ways'.” You lick your lips. You don't want to look at her to see how she's taking your words, so you continue to play with the thread around your fingers.

 

“She would tell me that I wouldn't find a husband if I was too loud, or too hyper, or too...anything, I guess. I learned to calm down the best that I could, despite my ADHD, and I tried to just...follow the rules, follow her rules, and get to the top. She was the voice in my head when I decided to try out to be a cheerleader. When I was making friends with all the popular, important kids. God, she was thrilled. She said it'd pave roads for me. She said I could learn from those girls,” you say the final words with distaste and a hint of irony. You shake your head at the idea that Amanda and her cronies were the girls to aspire to be. Though, you know your mother was right in a way. You became the worst of them.

 

“She sounds horrible,” Trini says. She takes your hand away from that thread and clasps it with her own. “You don't have to marry anyone or befriend anyone to be a better person, or to get somewhere in life. You just have to be you.”

 

You nod slowly, and you know deep down that she's right, but there's too much that's been put in your head over the years that you're not sure you can believe it. “I don't like who it made me,” you say in a small voice.

 

“Why?” She moves closer again. “You're so great.” She tips your head to look at her. “You're great, baby, and anyone who doesn't see that...”

 

The words move through you like a warm molasses, slowly spilling in and taking over. You glance at her lips, and you don't know how you fight back the desire to grab her and kiss her. You raise your eyes back to hers hesitantly. She's still staring at you with that strong stare. “I'm not,” you whisper. “I'm a bad person.”

 

“Why would you say that?” Her fingers are moving through your hair again, and the look on her face is confusion and disbelief.

 

You wanted to avoid telling her, but now you kind of want to. Maybe you want her to see the dark side of you and stop believing that you're 'so great'. Because you're not, and she needs to see that. But you know telling her means she'll know what you did. She'll know the kind of thing you're capable of doing, just out of spite.

 

“Remember when I told you about that girl in high school, Amanda?” She nods. “It didn't end with her trying to get Jason. I...I was so mad that she would do that, and I was hurt...there was this picture, a picture she sent me privately...and...I sent it to her boyfriend. I asked him, 'is this the kind of girl you want to take home to your mother?'. It...was a naked picture of her.” Your brows tighten together, and you feel pain climb up your throat in a lump. “He sent it to the whole school. Everyone saw it. I...completely devastated Amanda. I ruined her image. Jason...he was furious with me at first, for stooping down to that, but then he told me that as horrible as my actions were, he knew I felt terrible over it, and that mattered more. So...he stuck by my side. My mother was ashamed and angry. She said I ruined my standing by being so petty and vindictive. That I was too impulsive for my own good. She told me if I didn't learn some restraint I'd ruin my whole life.” You know your voice shakes as you echo your mother's words, but you can't hold it back. It still hurts, it still upsets you. She's still never forgiven you for what you did as a teenager.

 

If only she knew the restraint you used often now.

 

“...wow,” Trini finally whispers. She pulls her head back a little and you can see her thinking hard about it all. You wait, heart pounding, for her to tell you how terrible you are. You know she has to see it. Everyone else does.

 

“That's why I can't leave him,” you go on, tightly. “He didn't think I was evil when everyone else did. He's...the only person who could lo-...” You trail off, not able to finish that statement. Trini brings her head close again and stares into your eyes.

 

“If you think something you did when you were a teenager, as...terrible as it was...would stop me from caring about you, then you don't know anything about me,” she says thickly. “If you think I couldn't...” She trails off but doesn't look away. You understand what she was trying to say.

 

“I'm a mean person,” you tell her, like you're trying to convince her. “I'm...horrible.”

 

Her hand comes around the back of your neck and she tugs you close, until your lips are inches apart, and you can't help but look into her eyes. “I don't care,” she says simply. Her eyes fall to your lips and those inches fall to millimeters. One small move and your lips would be on hers, and the thought thrills you. You want nothing more. Her breath is mixing with yours, beating against your lips hard, and her eyes are dark. They hold so much promise, and desire, and you want to fall into them.

 

But you can't.

 

She must think the same thing at the same time, because she lets go of your neck and flops onto her back, her arm across her eyes. “Fuck,” she whispers. You watch her, and all you want is to be touching her again. You reach for her arm and tug it as you roll onto your side, your back to her, and she quickly gets the idea and curls up against you.

 

“Just hold me,” you whisper in a small voice. Your eyes close as her arm tightens around you and her hips move to brace you from behind. Her face snuggles into your neck and she presses a soft kiss there. You sigh, wishing it were more, but you know it can't be. Not as long as you're with him. It's just a matter of what you want more; the life you told yourself you would have, or the life you could have. With her. Because she's promised that, hasn't she?

 

“I don't think you're terrible,” she whispers, kissing your neck again. “I think...you're funny, and intriguing, and...god, so beautiful.” Her hold tightens. “The first time I saw you, I lost my breath. And I knew, if the moment was so cliché like that, that I had to get to know you. And I'm so glad I did. You're amazing, Kimberly. Amazing.” She presses a final kiss to your neck, leaving her lips pressed there, and despite not wanting to you're crying quietly. And she holds you, and keeps her lips on your neck when not whispering, “beautiful” or “amazing” or your favorite, “I've got you, baby”.

 

* * *

 

 

“Kimberly, you should go home.”

 

You roll onto your back and look up, and she's leaning over you as she gazes down at you. She looks so soft and gentle in the low glow of her lamp. “I don't want to,” you admit.

 

“I don't want him to get mad again,” she says.

 

You look at the time and sigh. You've only got a couple hours until he gets up for work and you really should be back before then. You roll into her and wrap your arm around her, and she wraps you up in her arms and hugs you tightly. “Thank you,” you whisper.

 

“You're welcome,” she replies.

 

You reluctantly pull away and sit up. “When can I see you again?” You ask.

 

“That depends,” she says, still curled up. “Are you gonna talk to him?”

 

“...I don't know,” you answer honestly. You're not about to make any promise to her that you can't come through on.

 

“Why don't you think about it the next couple days?”

 

Your head falls. “I don't want to go that long without seeing you.”

 

“It's what you agreed to,” she reminds you. “And you can't just sneak over here every night.”

 

“Guess not...”

 

“Call me later,” she suggests. “After we've both gotten some sleep.”

 

“Okay.” You move towards the bedroom door slowly. “Are you gonna lock up after me?”

 

“Do I have to?” She whines.

 

“Yes,” you tell her firmly. She pouts, but gets up and follows you out to the front door. With a hand on the knob you take one more look at her. She's so beautiful in her sweats and messy hair, and all you want to do is go back to bed with her and snuggle some more.

 

That should give you some indication as to where your heart lays.

 

“Bye,” Trini says, arms crossed at her chest.

 

“Bye,” you whisper with a smile. You walk out the door and pull it shut, and you wait a moment while you hear the locks tumble into place, then you head for the stairs. There's a smile on your lips that you just can't wipe away, and it's not until you hit the sidewalk outside that you understand what that means you have to do. The happiness that you had felt, if only for a moment, flees. In it's place is dread and terror, and a heart filled with pain.

 

You need to break up with Jason.

 


	6. cause i don't feel nothing til i taste my own tears

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy this chapter! 
> 
> Song: Taste My Own Tears by Paloma Faith

 

_"my heart is aching with this loneliness_  
 _tempted to call you to sleep in my bed_  
_it's been a long time coming_ _since somebody touched me_  
_someone got a hold on me_  
  
_and it's making me crazy_  
_cause I can't stop thinking of you_  
_oh, nothing can save me_  
_can't help coming back_  
_cause I don't feel nothing '_ _til I taste my own tears_ "

* * *

 

You’re standing out on your balcony and it’s far passed midnight. The air is warm around you with a slight chilly breeze, but you’re warm in your sweatpants and long sleeved shirt. You phone is to your ear as it rings through the earpiece. Then it stops.

 

“Hey, beautiful,” comes her voice.

 

You smile. Your first real smile of the night. Probably of the entire day. “Hey,” you reply.

 

“I was just thinking about you.”

 

“Yeah?” You ask. You close your eyes so you can pretend you’re beside her -- in her arms.

 

“Yeah,” Trini says. “How has everything been over there?”

 

Your eyes open and you lick your lips. You know what she’s asking. You know she’s not going to like your answer. “S-Same as always.”

 

“Oh?”

 

“I...haven’t been able to talk to him,” you admit quietly. “I will! I’m going to.”

 

“Kimberly…” You don’t like how your name sounds from her lips. She sounds disappointed. In you. In the situation. Then she sighs. “No. No, it’s okay. You need to do it when you’re ready. I can wait.”

 

“You can?”

 

“Of course. I’ll wait as long as I have to.”

 

You relax. It feels so good to hear her say that. To know the most charming, kind-hearted reward is waiting for you at the end of the terrifying tunnel. “I just want to skip over all of it and be with you.”

 

“I know, baby. But it doesn’t work that way.”

 

“I know.” And you melt inside at the endearing name .

 

“You should come over tomorrow night,” she suggests. “We’ll hang out like usual, and if you need to talk...we can.”

 

“I’d like that,” you say, smiling.

 

“How was your day otherwise?”

 

“Dull,” you say. “Work was unimpressive. What about you? How’s Gia doing?”

 

Trini sighs. “She’s okay. She’s getting ready to go into foster care, and I think she’s scared.”

 

“It would make sense for her to be. She’s been on her own for a long time, and she has no control over where she ends up.”

 

“No, but I’m gonna make sure she gets placed somewhere that’ll be good for her. Maybe somewhere with other kids her age. There’s one family who fostered and adopted a girl from us named Emma, and I think they’d be really good for Gia.”

 

“Do the Children Services people listen to your recommendations?”

 

“Sometimes, yeah. They know that I know these kids and care about them. They mess up sometimes, but they really want what’s best for the kids, too.”

 

You smile and shake your head. “You’re an angel, Trini Gomez.”

 

She chuckles. “No, I just...want them to get what I had.”

 

“Can anyone really compare to your Mama Candace?”

 

“Nope. Not a soul. But they can try.”

 

You laugh. “I’d really love to meet her one day. She sounds great.”

 

“I want you to meet her one day,” Trini replies. “When I can hold your hand and tell her you’re my girlfriend.”

 

That takes you right back to where you were, and you frown. “It’ll happen soon,” you promise again.

 

“I know. I can’t wait to see you tomorrow.”

 

“I can’t wait to see you, either.”

 

* * *

 

 

You walk into the Krispy Kreme the next night and head over to the counter. There’s a short line, but you don’t need to look at the board to know what you want. You play on your phone while you wait, and then after a few minutes you’re face to face with Zack.

 

“Pink!” He cries out. “I never see you anymore!”

 

“I know, I know. I’m sorry, Zack.”

 

“Have you found another place to get your coffee?” He gives you his best pout, but you can’t help but laugh at him. He’s cute.

 

“No. I haven’t replaced you. I just…” Spend a lot more time at Trini’s. “I’ve had a lot going on.”

 

He rubs his hands together and leans against the counter. “Tell me the good stuff. How’s my ship doing?”

 

“Your ship?” You frown in confusion until you realize what he’s talking about. Then you roll your eyes. “There is no ship,” you assure him. “Trini and I are just friends.”

 

“Give it time.”

 

“Zack. Can I order?” You don’t mean to rush him, but you want to see Trini!

 

“Fine, fine...it’s all I’m good for.”

 

“It’s not! Look. How about you give me your number and we go get coffee or a drink sometime?” You travel your screen to the right place and hold the phone out to him.

 

“For reals?”

 

“Yes.”

 

He grabs the phone and quickly adds his number before handing it back to you. “Don’t make empty promises.”

 

“I won’t! You can even come hang out with me, Trini, and her roommate Billy. It’d be fun.”

 

“Alright!” He pumps a fist in the air, and with a renewed grin he stands over the register. “Okay, what do you want?

 

* * *

 

 

You knock on Trini’s door with a bag of donuts and a tray of hot chocolates. It opens and Billy is there with a smile. You return it.

 

“Hey, Billy.”

 

“Hi, Kimberly!” He steps aside so you can walk in.

 

You hold out the tray. “Got you a hot chocolate.”

 

“Oh! Thank you!” He takes one. “Trini should be right out. She was taking a shower.”

 

Your mind momentarily freezes at the idea of Trini in the shower, but you’re able to push the thought away. “Okay, I’ll just wait for her.” You go and sit on the couch and he follows you. “If you have things to do, it’s okay,” you tell him. “Really.”

 

“Are you sure?” You can tell he really doesn’t want to sit and make small talk while you wait for Trini. You nod. He beams. “See you later, Kimberly!” He takes off for his room and shuts the door.

 

You lean back and chuckle to yourself. You’re pulling a donut out of the bag and taking a bite when Trini walks into the room. She’s in track pants and a sweatshirt, and her wet hair is hanging down her back. She looks fresh and clean, and beautiful. You choke on the bite of donut.

 

“Kim?!” Trini rushes forward, but you hold a hand up and swallow.

 

“M’okay,” you mumble. You cough again and she hands you a hot chocolate from where you had put them on the table. You take a sip of it to wash everything down. “I’m okay,” you say again.

 

“Remind me not to sneak up on you while you eat again,” she says.

You smirk and shake your head. “Probably a good idea.”

 

She smiles and stares at you. “Hi.”

 

“Hi,” you say back. Her eyes are magical, and they’ve drawn you in. You can’t look away.

 

“This is weird,” she says, shaking her head.

 

“Why?” Have you done something wrong? Did you say something wrong already?

 

“I just...feel like I should kiss you, but...I can’t.”

 

Your cheeks go red and you look at your lap. “No. You can’t.”

 

“Even talking about it is wrong,” she murmurs.

 

You chance a glance up at her, and she’s looking somewhere past you. You look down at her hand, sitting on her knee, and without thought you take it in your own. She looks down at your hands then up at you, and you smile. She smiles back and squeezes your hand.

 

“It’s good to see you,” she says.

 

“It’s good to see you, too.”

 

“Did you talk to him?” It comes out rushed, like she had been holding it back. Her eyes are wide in her surprise.

 

“No..” You say it slightly ashamed of yourself. Or maybe super ashamed of yourself. You should have by now. It’s been almost a week and you haven’t gotten up the nerve.

 

“That’s okay,” she nods.

 

“No, don’t say that. Don’t say it’s okay if it’s not.”

 

“It’s…” She lets out a sigh. “You do need to do it when you’re ready, but...it’s just...why wait, you know?” Her face is scrunched up adorably, and it almost melts the tension in your body. Almost.

 

“It’s not easy.”

 

“I know.”

 

“It’s going to be terrible.”

 

“I know.”

 

“I’ve been so tempted to just...leave a note. That would be easier. Tell him everything in a note and not have to see his face or hear what he says…then run away.”

 

“You can’t do that,” she says.

 

“I know.”

“I meant it when I said I could wait forever,” she says. You look at her. “I’m just...impatient to have you to myself.”

 

That makes you smile shyly. Your heart is pounding hard. “I can’t wait either.”

 

She grins and leans her forehead to the side of your head, and the two of you sit there like that for awhile. Finally, she clears her throat and sits up. “We should watch a movie or something.”

 

“Okay. I have donuts.”

 

“See? That’s why I like you.”

 

You just laugh.

 

* * *

 

The following night, you’ve just finished cleaning up from dinner. You place the last item in the drying rack and wipe your hands on your jeans. You stare blankly into the sink, not seeing it, and think to yourself.

 

It’s time. You know it’s well past time, but you’re so scared. Already your heart is pounding in your chest and your palms are sweaty. You rub them on your jeans again. All you could think about all day was Trini and how badly you wanted to see her again. But you know that every time you are around her is one step closer to a big mistake. The pull is just too strong, and you don’t know how much restraint you have left. So you have to do this now. You _want_ to do this. You went from denial, and a need to hold onto a past that wasn’t really there, to just...Trini. She makes you so happy. So content. All you want is to be around that more. To have that more. You want someone who makes you feel happy -- like you’re an amazing person -- and you know that Trini will do that. She already does.

 

“Kim? You okay?” Jason comes into the kitchen and goes to the fridge to get a beer. He pops it open and watches you as he takes a sip. You can feel his eyes on your back.

 

You turn around to face him and have to cross your arms over your chest to calm your shaking hands. You can barely look at him. “Can we go sit in the dining room and talk?” You ask with your gaze at his feet. You risk a glance up.

 

He’s frowning, but he shrugs his shoulders. “Sure.” He turns to head in that direction and you follow him.

 

Once you’re both settled at the table -- opposite each other on the sides -- he stares at you. You rest your hands in your lap where you can fiddle with your fingers and you lift your head to look at him.

 

“There’s some stuff I want to say,” you tell him. “And...I think I needed to say it all a long time ago.” You see a certain look shadow over his face, and you clear your throat to power on. “You’ve been my best friend for a really, really long time, and I love you. But….I don’t....I think…” Your brows scrunch together and you pause. “I think that’s all you’ve ever been to me. Maybe in high school it felt like more, but...I just...don’t feel _love_ here.” Your eyes drop to the table. It was difficult to get those words out, and your heart is beating even harder than before, and you kind of want to vomit. Already tears are forming in your eyes as you wait for him to say something. He’s quiet for a long time, and you can’t look at him to read anything off his face. Finally, you hear the sound of a bottle being set on the table.

 

“So you wait all these years to tell me this?” His voice is cold, disconnected.

 

You wipe your eyes. “I-I didn’t...really realize it.” A lie. “I thought...this would become my fairytale.” The truth.

 

“Fairytales don’t exist, Kim. It’s just people trying to live their lives,” he scoffs. “Will you at least look at me?” His question is hard and more of a demand. You bring your head up and look at him. His face is tight and red. “If you don’t love me, why did you stay with me? Why did you agree to marry me?”

 

You think. Not about the answer, but whether to tell him the truth. The truth would only be worse, wouldn’t it? “I thought it was what I wanted. I thought _you_ were what I wanted.” Yes, that was good. Or maybe not.

 

“And that changed?”

 

“Yeah...I realized that I want to fall in love,” you say simply, your voice shaking. “I want more.” Finally, the truth.

 

Jason is quiet. His jaw is clenched tight. After a moment he slams his fist down on the table and you jump. “I can’t believe you!”

 

“I’m sorry!” You lean forward over the table. “I’m so sorry, Jase. You have no idea.” This is the part you didn’t want to do. The part you still don’t want to do. You want to get up and run away and not face your consequences.

 

“Sorry doesn’t give me back those wasted years!”

 

“We were happy!” Right?

 

“Yeah! I thought we were! But apparently not. Is this Trini’s doing? Did she put all this in your head?”

 

You look to the side, away from him, and you let your fingernails bite into the palms of your hands. You take a deep breath. “No,” you whisper. “But she’s helped me realize some things about myself, and she’s helped me start to feel better about myself than I have in a long time…”

 

You lick your lips slowly before turning to him again. “Jason, you don’t need to know this, but I’m telling you because I do still care about you and consider you my best friend...I’m bisexual. I’ve always known, but I haven’t talked about it. I felt ashamed and wrong for a long time, but I’m starting to understand that it’s okay. That I’m okay. And she helped me with that.”

 

He nods and takes that all in. He doesn’t look surprised. “Are you sleeping with her?”

 

“No,” you answer evenly. You were expecting that, after all. “Despite what I do or don’t feel about us, I wouldn’t cheat on you.”

 

“Are you leaving me for her?”

 

You take a breath. You don’t know what to say. Kind of, yes. Kind of, no. And you don’t know what the best answer would be to ease his pain. “No,” you settle on. “She’s a close friend, and while I don’t know what will happen down the line, I’m not just leaving you so I can go be with her.”

 

“I knew,” he says softly. “I had this feeling...and then when you spent so much time with her...I thought you were cheating on me.” He runs his fingers through his hair, and he no longer looks you in the eye.

 

“I didn’t. I swear to you.”

 

“Your word doesn’t mean much to me,” he said quickly. “After all, you said you loved me. You said you’d marry me. Those were lies.”

 

“I’m sorry that you can’t believe me,” you say. God, you just want this to be over. Yes, you want to let him say what he needs to say, and you want to ease his mind as much as you can, but this is just so tiring. Your face feels dry and sticky from your subsided tears. You try to ease your hands. “You’re amazing, and I adore you more than anything. You deserve more, too. I couldn’t keep going, pretending that we had something that we don’t. And we both know things have been rocky for awhile.”

 

“You mean since you met Trini?”

 

“She has nothing to do with us.”

 

“I don’t believe that,” he says simply. He folds his arms and places them on the table. “She got to you. She got in your head. I told you, she has a thing for you. She wants us to break up so she can go after you.”

 

This makes your jaw set and your eyes narrow. No way can he talk about Trini like that. Or at all. “Trini didn’t do anything but be my friend when I needed one. I was, god, I was so lost. You never saw it. You never even bothered to try. I was sinking, and she showed up and gave me a life raft. She gave me friendship. She didn’t wedge her way between us. There was already a wedge. You just didn’t want to see it.”

 

“What didn’t I do? Did I not talk to you about your feelings enough? Did I not hold your hand? What?” His words were chilled but curious.

 

“No...no. I...I don’t know. It’s not about what you did or didn’t do,” you say. Though you know there’s plenty he hasn’t done for you over the years, and especially over the last several months. You don’t want this to be an argument of pointing fingers though. “It’s just about me not loving you the way that I should to marry you. And I can’t marry you. I can’t live with you. I don’t want to say goodbye to you, but...I’ll understand if you do.”

 

Jason drops his head to his arms and lets out a grunt. He’s quiet for a long time and you just wait and watch him. When he finally lifts his head, his face is red and his eyes are blotchy from tears. “I can’t be friends with you,” he says calmly. “I can’t...even look at you.” He looks away with those words. He shakes his head. “You don’t want to marry me? Fine. Go.”

 

You frown. “Right now?”

 

“Yeah. Please. Get out.”

 

“But...my things...I-”

 

“You can come get them when I’m at work.” He pushes his chair back loudly and rises to his feet. “And then you can stay gone.” His voice is cold again, and it chills you. You don’t like hearing him talk to you that way, even though you probably deserve it.

 

“O-...okay…” You watch him for a moment. He paces the length of the dining room, his hand rubbing his mouth, and he stops near the doorway. “You really are as cold and deceptive as you were in high school. You haven’t changed at all.” Then he walks out of the room, and you hear him go down the hall and slam the bedroom door shut.

 

You sit there for a moment. Close your eyes. Take a deep, centering breath. You let it out while opening your eyes, and you get to your feet. You are the things he said. You always have been. Your mother has told you so, and now so has he. They’re right. God, what does Trini even see in you?

 

You ignore the fresh tears on your cheeks.  You think about what you need to get you through the night. Your purse, your shoes….Trini. You’re shaking. You should go stay in a hotel, but all you can think about is Trini and her arms and her bed. The tears are big and hot, and they’re rolling down your cheeks.

 

Are you really the same person you were then? Is it true?

 

You shake your head out of it and grab your purse before shoving your feet into your shoes (stumbling and swaying as you try to get them on while standing), and you grab your phone and your keys and walk out the door. As it closes behind you, you hear your entire history shutting. Closing down. Finishing.

 

God, you need Trini.

 

* * *

 

 

You cry the entire way there. You can barely see the road in front of you and nearly get into three separate accidents. You shouldn’t be on the road. All you can think about is Jason’s face, and his words. Especially his parting ones. You don’t want to be that person. You’ve been fighting it for so long; the idea that you are her. You don’t want to think about it, but it’s there and fresh.

 

You can’t drive anymore. You finally find an empty parking spot on the side of the road and get out so you can walk the rest of the way, but you’re so impatient to see her, to find the comfort that you know she’ll give you, that you run. You run five blocks, and you probably look crazy, but you don’t care. You reach her building and hit the buzzer again and again, before leaning on your knees to pant.

 

“Hello?”

 

Billy. His voice sends warmth to your broken, cruel heart. “Billy, it’s me!” You sniffle hard and wipe your arm across your eyes.

 

“Oh! Hey, Kim. Would you like to come in? I think Trini’s asleep, but-”

 

“Yes! Please, Billy!”

 

“Okay.” He buzzes you in and you grab the unlocked door so you can go inside. You run up the stairs to their floor and down the hall, and he’s peeking his head out the door waiting for you. He smiles and waves, and you’re so close to throwing your arms around him. He frowns when he sees you and looks you up and down. “You’ve been crying,” he states. “Something happened.”

 

“Yeah, I, I can’t explain it, I just need..” You’re trying to catch your breath and you’re also crying again. Did you ever stop? Your chest heaves while he moves out of the way to let you inside. You step in. “I need to see her.”

 

“Kimberly?” You hear her voice down the hall and it makes the bigger tears start again.

 

You take off across the apartment and down to the end of the hall to her bedroom door. She has stepped just outside the door, frowning, and you leap at her, cling to her like a koala bear. You bury your face in the junction between her neck and shoulder, and you sob in earnest. Her arms go around you and she’s murmuring soft, sweet nothings to you. You barely feel her sink to the floor, sitting in the corner of the hallway with you in her lap. You’re crying and hiccuping, and you want to tell her but you can’t get the words out. So instead you hold onto her and you inhale her sweet, slightly musty scent, and you wait for it all to recess.

 

You feel...you don’t know what you feel. It’s all too muddled. Everything with Jason was too much, that’s for sure. Like you always thought you had been.

 

You had spent so long feeling so _terrible_ about yourself and your feelings, and the things you didn’t feel, that suddenly, out of nowhere, there’s a weight lifting off your shoulders. Yes, you still feel terrible, and you are absolutely devastated at the pain you had brought upon Jason and what he said, but with Trini there you are _lighter_ . You are absolutely _soaring_ . You pull back, despite your tears not having slowed, and you look at her. You really _look_ at her. You don’t know what she sees in you, and you don’t know if you’re really that person Jason and your mother think you are, but she doesn’t see it. She has never seen you that way. She has only ever seen you as _good_ and _worthy_ , and you can’t understand why, but it feels so good. She’s so incredibly good. You can’t look away from her. She’s a lighthouse, you the troubled, dark waters, and she’s lighting the way to some form of happiness.

 

She’s staring at you in confusion and concern, and her hands come up to hold your face while her thumbs try to dry your cheeks. “What’s wrong, baby? What happened?” She asks you.

 

“You’re so beautiful,” you say in awe, and you laugh through your tears.

 

She frowns. “Kimberly?”

 

“So...goddamn...beautiful.” You suddenly realize that you can do anything you want, absolutely anything you want. You’re not bound down anymore, there’s no guilt to stop you. You hear Jason in the back of your head accusing you of leaving him to go to her, but you make that sound go silent. Jason isn’t there. It’s just you and Trini, and you know exactly what you want. And it wasn’t unlike you to be impulsive or reckless at times. You used to go for exactly what you wanted, and where had that person gone?

 

So you kiss her. You set your hands on her shoulders and you lean in and press your lips to hers just as you’ve been dreaming about since the first moment you saw her.

 

She whimpers. She tries to pull back. “Wait, what-”

 

“I did it,” you whisper, right against her lips. “It’s over.”

 

“What? You mean-”

 

You kiss her again. It takes a moment, a beat, and then one of her hands is on the back of your neck and the other is on your cheek, and she’s kissing you back.

 

The kiss is sloppy, and hungry, and you don’t think you ever want to breathe again if it means stopping. Because if this is what kissing is supposed to be, this all-encompassing, all-consuming, universe-changing feel; then you’ve never once done it right. And if it isn’t, if this is something special, something that doesn’t come around every day -- which you think it might be, which you know it _has_ to be -- then why should you _want_ to do _anything_ else? Why did you waste so long _not_ kissing someone that could make it feel this way? Someone whose lips had a way of sliding over yours in a firm and massaging way, whose tongue was warm and soft in your mouth, doing wonderous things, and who held you in such a way that you may never break again. Because kissing Jason had never felt so perfect and beautiful, had never felt like your entire heart and soul were leaping for _joy_ , and had never felt like you were coming home after a long, exhausting journey. Kissing Jason had never felt _right_. Like something more than a thing you were supposed to do. And never once have you kissed someone, for the first time or any time, that left you wet and throbbing and desiring so much more, but knowing you could probably orgasm from it alone. Never before have you kissed someone whose mouth feels like heaven wrapped up in a blanket, with a kiss that could heal all of your pain.

 

She is nothing but exquisite.

 

And she’s pushing you back a bit, still holding you gently, and she’s staring into your eyes with all the care and concern she has always shown you. “Are you okay?” She asks.

 

You think about it. You think about how absolutely hard and terrifying the conversation had been, and how hurt Jason was. You think about everything he said and how it got to you, and you sigh. You don’t want to think about those things. You just want to think about Trini. You shake your head. You have stopped crying though, so there’s that. “I’m...exhausted,” you manage to say with a slight laugh. You look down. “But I’m okay.”

 

“Good,” she says. She brushes her fingers through your hair and off your face. “Must be why I thought about you so much today.”

 

“Yeah?” You look up and smile. How could her thinking about you not make you smile?

 

“Yeah.” She returns your smile softly. “Now, how about we get you to bed?”

 

“Yes, please.” You get up and take her hands to pull her up. She gets to her feet and wraps an arm around your waist before leading you into her bedroom, where you plan on sleeping hard in her arms.

 

She guides you to the bed and pushes you to sit on it. Then she kneels down and takes your shoes and socks off. She leans up and unbuttons your jeans and starts to tug them down so you lift your hips off the bed and let her. She slides them down your legs and pulls them over your feet before discarding them on the floor. Then she looks up at you and stares at you, and you don’t know what she’s thinking, but her gaze is deep. Her hand brushes your shin. She pushes up to her feet and pulls the bedding down.

 

“Let’s go, beautiful,” she says quietly, thickly. She helps you move over and lay down and pulls the blankets up to your chin. She’s leaning over you, smiling, and she tucks your hair behind your ear. All you can do is stare back.

 

You kind of you wish she were taking more of your clothes off, but you don’t want to rush things, and you know she doesn’t either. You watch as she turns the light off and slowly walks back over to the bed. She crawls in on the other side and moves up close to you. You’re overwhelmed by her scent and her presence, and you shift to lay against her with your head on her shoulder.

 

She wraps her arm around you and leans close so her chin is against the side of your head. “You’re going to be okay,” she whispers in the darkness.

 

“I don’t even know what to feel,” you tell her honestly.

 

“I know.”

 

You turn your head so that your face is in her neck and you inhale deeply. You let it out. “I want to be happy, and ready for you.”

 

“You need time. I understand that.”

 

“I think I do.” You realize it as you say it. A part of you had thought that once you ended things with Jason this pressure in your chest would finally go away, and it had momentarily, but it’s still there. It still feels like it’s suffocating you. “Why don’t I feel better?”

 

“Because you have a big heart, and you feel things deeply. And leaving him doesn’t change all the years of expectations pushed on you. You just need time to remember who you are, and be her.”

 

You smile into her neck. “How’d you become so wise?”

 

“Mama Candace instilled a lot in me. And...meeting you, I think, brought it out in me. You’ve changed me.”

 

“Is that a good thing?”

 

“A really good thing.”

 

You press a kiss to her neck and feel her shiver against you. “You’ve changed me, too.”

 

“And I’ll be here for you the whole time, Princess.”

 

Again, she makes you melt. “Thank you.”

 

She tightens her arms around you, and you listen to the hard beating of her heart, and you let yourself focus on that and push everything else away.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what you liked! 
> 
> Also, follow me on tumblr! I post lots of oneshots and drabbles and headcanons that don't get posted here, and I usually take prompts (they're closed right now fyi)! Come shout at me! 5ivebyfive


	7. you bring me hope when i can't breathe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Tasha as always for reading this before everyone else, and thank you to the Trimberly Creators Corner for supporting me in getting this chapter done. It wasn't easy. But I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Song title is All I Need by Christina Aguilera
> 
> CW for panic attacks and light homophobia

You’re floating somewhere in between reality and dreams, and far away in the recesses of your mind you make out words that sound familiar. They’re submerged in water and far, far away, but you’re starting to hear them. No. Not words. Word. _Name_ . _Your_ name. It’s your name you’re hearing, and the more you hear it the closer it gets; the less muted you feel from it. You let out a soft groan, because you don’t want to leave that faraway place. Everything there is quiet and calm and you know there’s a world you don’t want to face attached to that voice, but you find yourself, regardless, coming to more and more.

 

“Kimberly...Kimberly, come on. You need to eat something, or drink some water.”

 

_Oh_ , it’s a kind voice. It’s a voice that you love to hear. But it’s bribing you back into the real world, and you don’t want to be in the real world. Now, you’re conscious enough to feel like you’re on a real plane of existence, but you’re still so tired. Heavy. You feel heavy. You whine and roll over onto your other side and bury your face in the pillow.

 

She’s stroking her fingers through your hair and it feels good and wrong all at once. “You need to drink some water at least.”

 

“No.” You’re being stubborn and you don’t care. You’re allowed to be.

 

“Come on, baby-”

 

“Don’t call me that,” you snap. You know it’s muffled with your face in her pillow, but you also know she hears you. Her fingers freeze in your hair and she pulls them away. You feel guilty, after everything that she’s done for you, but you just can’t handle having her touching you right now. Not when you feel so miserable and lousy.

 

You just want to sleep. Why won’t she let you sleep?

 

“I’ll be outside if you need anything,” she says, and her voice is chilled. You don’t like the sound of it, but you know that you caused it. You want to call her back, to wrap your arms around her and bury your face in her long neck. You want to apologize and kiss her skin, and tell her you didn’t mean to be mean. But you don’t.

 

You lay there silently until you hear the door shut, and then you break down into soft sobs again. Your chest hurts, and you feel your whole body moving with each wail. You don’t know why you feel so miserable. This is what you have been wanting for some time; to be free and available. To be able to spend time with Trini in whatever way you want. To not be tied down to something you _don’t_ want or a life that isn’t supposed to be yours.

 

But you _are_ miserable. You spent almost ten years of your life with Jason, and good or bad, he meant so much to you. He had been your very best friend and now it feels like he’s dead. Like everything you had, those years of your life, are gone, too. Erased, like they never happened.

 

Your sobs slow and you gently ease into sleep; a deep and much needed sleep. When you wake again you’re surrounded by darkness. There’s no light coming through the window and you’re disoriented. Where are you? When are you? You sit up and rub your face, and as you sit there a moment it all starts to come back to you. A heavy weight settles in your chest again and you can feel it against your heartbeat. It’s like it’s pushing against your heart; constricting it.

 

You’re thirsty. You don’t know when you last drank anything, but your mouth is dry and your throat is scratchy. You get to your feet and blindly find your way to the door. When you open it you spot a light down the hall casting a soft glow towards the door. You take a deep breath before padding down the hallway towards the light into the living room. Trini is on the couch, curled up and reading a book. She notices you immediately. She closes the book with her bookmark and looks at you. Her eyes are full of care and concern, and you don’t want it. You don’t deserve it. You look down and go into the kitchen where you pour yourself a glass of water and chug it. You pour another and hear her come in behind you. She doesn’t say anything, but she’s there.

 

You turn around, clutching the glass in two hands, and you look at her. She’s leaning back against the counter with crossed arms and she looks like she has so much she wants to say. You’re glad she’s keeping it in. Her eyes are on yours and you feel like you’re shrinking right in front of her.

 

“How long have I been out?” You ask softly.

 

“All day,” she responds.

 

You nod and take a sip of your water. You look around. “Where’s Billy?”

 

“He’s gonna stay with Mama Candace for a few days.”

 

“Oh.” You look down. You scared Billy off. You congratulate yourself on a job well done.

 

“He just wanted to give us some space. It wasn’t anything you did,” Trini says, as if reading your mind.

 

“Space for what?”

 

“Getting you back on your feet.”

 

“I’m on my feet, Trini,” you say. You look up and stare her down.

 

“You know what I mean.”

 

“You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to...baby me.”

 

“I’m not babying you,” she says. “I’m just here for you. For whatever you need.”

 

“I don’t know what I need.”

 

“I can help you figure that out.”

 

“Why?”

 

She takes a step forward and you hold the glass tighter. “Because I care about you,” she says gently. “And I know you’re hurting right now, but I want to do what I can to ease that.”

 

You blink rapidly, trying to keep the tears at bay. You stare into your glass of water and watch it ripple. “You’re just...so good to me,” you say. “And...I don’t know if I deserve it.” You know you’ve been unfairly cold to Trini all day. You don’t really want to be, but it’s like you can’t control it.

 

“Oh, baby,” she murmurs. She’s closer now, but she hasn’t reached out for you. You kind of want her to. “You do deserve it. I wish you saw that.”

 

“I wasn’t good to him,” you say, shaking your head.

 

“Kim,” she says, using your nickname for one of the few times ever. “You’re a good person.”

 

“I don’t feel like I am.”

 

“You are.” And she takes the glass from your hands and sets it on the counter before returning to you and placing a hand on your cheek. You lean into the touch. “You’re so good,” she adds softly. You look down to meet her gaze, and there’s an intensity in her eyes that scares you, but which you want to dive into and never resurface from.

 

“I don’t know what to do next,” you admit.

 

“You rest. You talk to me, if you want to. Then we see about getting your stuff from your-there.”

 

You nod along to her words and close your eyes. You try to center yourself by the touch of her hand on your cheek. “I want to go back to bed,” you say.

 

“You can do that.”

 

“And I want you with me...holding me.”

 

“We can definitely do that.” She takes your hand and you follow her back to the bedroom. You had left the blankets a mess, your usual M.O., but instead of sighing about it like Jason would have done, Trini smiles and pulls them back for you. “Must’ve been good sleep,” she says.

 

You climb into the bed and shrug your shoulders. “I don’t know about good.”

 

“We’ll see if we can change that then,” she says, getting into bed beside you. You both sit there for a moment, staring at one another, and you feel that thick pull that you always feel around her. The one that maybe should have gone away after how you treated her today. But it’s still there. You notice her eyes flicker to your lips, but you’re not sure if you want to kiss her right now. You drop your head to look at your lap and she must get it because she lays back and pats the spot beside herself. “Come on, let’s sleep.”

 

You smile softly and lay down with your head on her shoulder and her arm wrapped around you. It feels good. It feels right. You never really snuggled with Jason. You could imagine snuggling with Trini every night though. You inhale and breathe her in, the scent of her neck, and you let it out slowly. “I’m sorry,” you say.

 

“I know. And I told you it’s okay. You have a lot to deal with right now.” You fall quiet. You’re thinking about all of those things, and about Jason, and you’re remembering what he said. You turn your face further into her neck to hide. “Do you want to talk about it?”

 

At first, you say nothing. Then you feel the stinging in your eyes. You don’t want to cry though. You definitely don’t want to cry. You lift your face and move your head more to her shoulder. “He was so mad,” you say softly. “I knew he would be, but...I didn’t imagine it like that. He thinks...he thinks that not only did I cheat on him, but that you turned me gay. I tried telling him that I’ve known I was bi for a long time, but it’s like he couldn’t hear it. And I told him nothing happened between us, but he didn’t hear that either. And...he’s never heard me. I don’t think he’s ever even tried.”

 

“What he thinks doesn’t matter,” Trini says. “We both know what happened between us, and we know you weren’t unfaithful.”

 

Again you go quiet, thinking. “I kind of was, wasn’t I?” You tilt your head so you can look at her. “I fell for someone else when I was engaged to him.” You can see Trini’s face fighting between a scowl and a smile. She licks her lips and manages to look neutral.

 

“But we didn’t do anything.”

 

“I wanted to.”

 

“So did I, but we didn’t.”

 

“I still want to,” you admit with a slight croak in your voice.

 

She glances at you while her lips turn up. “Me too.” And for a moment, you’re stuck in her eyes. Those dark, warm eyes that have had you from the beginning. Then she’s leaning forward, her lips are getting closer, and she kisses your forehead. “What else did he say?”

 

“That, um…” You’re a bit lost from the ghost of that kiss on your skin. You clear your throat. You’re not sure that you want to tell her. It was ugly, and it was mean, and it _hurts_. “He said that I’m cold and deceptive, like I was in high school.”

 

“No one’s the same as they were in high school,” she argues.

 

“Maybe I am.”

 

Her free hand comes over and touches your cheek to hold your gaze on hers and she shakes her head with a soft smile. “No, you’re not. You did a really bad thing when you were a kid, and you can’t make up for it. What you can do is try to be a better person, and I think you are. You’re far from cold, and the only person you deceive is you by constantly thinking badly about yourself. You’re not those things, Kimberly. I’ll tell you all the time if I have to.”

 

You don’t know what to say. You’re reminded again of why you grew feelings for her. She sees the best in you, even when you can’t see it yourself. And she has a way with her words. You know she’s not always a big talker, but when it matters most she tells you everything you need to hear, and you believe it. Without wasting a second, you cup her face in your hands and surge up to kiss her. Because now you can. Whenever you want. She kisses you back and moves her hand to the back of your neck. The kiss starts intense, needy, like you need everything she can give you, and you’re there to take it. You’re leaning up more, pressing closer, and she holds you there with an arm around your waist. You smooth your hands down her hair and tangle your fingers in the ends of it, and as her tongue works wonders against yours, you tug. She slips and bites down on your lip, and you groan. All the pent up desire for her is flooding back ( as if it ever left ) and your hands settle on her hips as you fall back and pull her with.

 

She settles on top of you and tears her mouth from yours to kiss along your jaw and neck and up your throat. You whimper. Her mouth feels so good, and so hot, and you’re sure you’re already sweating. She makes her way over your chin and back to your lips, but then her kiss is gentle and slow. You return it languidly. You let yourself feel it. The chills, the want, the tenderness….her hand pushing your shirt up and riding across your abs. Heat. Need. Her hand moves further up, slides across your ribs and keeps going, and you feel...you feel...panic. You try to take a big gasp of air and her hand stills. She pulls from you to look at you with question in her eyes and you shake your head. You’re still trying to breathe.

 

Trini sit up on her knees and pulls you into a sitting position. “Okay, okay,” she says, rubbing your back. “Close your eyes and breathe.”

 

You try. You try to suck air into your lungs but you just can’t. You shake your head and feel the tears form in your eyes. You can’t speak. You clutch onto her -- anything to keep you grounded -- and you stare into her eyes. Her kind, gentle eyes. They’re encouraging you, prompting you, and you try again. A small bit of air passes your lips and you let it out. She’s murmuring words of encouragement and rubbing your back, and you can’t look away from her. You breathe in again, this time taking more air, and you let it out. You continue until your lungs don’t hurt from the process, and until you don’t feel like you’re going to break apart into millions of pieces. You let out one final breath of air and nod. You’re breathing normally now. You still don’t let go of her.

 

“You did so good,” she tells you.

 

“Thank you,” you rasp out. You wipe your face dry. “I don’t know...why that happened.”

 

“It’s okay,” she promises. “We got you through it.”

 

“We could...try again,” you offer, half-heartedly. To be honest, you’re tired now. It took a lot out of you.

 

“Let’s just get some sleep,” she says. You feel relieved, but you also feel guilty. You led her towards something and didn’t actually go there.

 

“Are you okay?” You ask, your eyes wide with concern for her.

 

She just smiles and nods. “Of course I am, Princess. I’m about to cuddle you. C’mon.” Trini lays down again and opens her arms again, and you fall right into them. You curl up against her and close your eyes, and you relax at the feel of her fingers stroking through your hair.

 

“You’re perfect,” you whisper.

 

“Far from it.”

 

“To me you are.”

 

“Well...to me you are, too.” She kisses the top of your head. You grin and press even closer. “Goodnight, Kimberly,” she whispers.

 

“Goodnight, Trini,” you respond. Then you take a deep breath and let it out, and you focus on what you have in front of you. A beautiful woman who cares for you, thinks you’re perfect, and will hold your hand when you need her. She really is perfect.

 

\--

 

The next day you’re bundled up in a blanket on the couch and Trini is sitting at your side. You don’t really know what you’re watching, but it’s distracting you well enough. Your phone rings. You reach for it from the coffee table and look at the caller ID. It’s your mother. You feel your heartbeat surge and you jump to your feet.

 

“I have to...I’ll be right back.” You take your phone down the hall to Trini’s bedroom and shut yourself in before swiping to answer it. “Hi,” you say.

 

“Why did I have to hear from my mechanic’s receptionist that you dumped Jason for a _lesbian_?”

 

Her voice sounds like she could be talking about the weather, but you hear the anger and the judgement, thinly veiled, in it. You close your eyes and back up to sit on the edge of the bed. “Why would some stranger know that?”

 

“My mechanic is friends with Jason’s father,” she says.

 

“Oh.”

 

“Is that all you have to say for yourself? I don’t understand you, Kimberly.” And she says your name in that way she always has. In that way that reads disappointment and frustration. “You’ll go back to him. You’ll go back and apologize and tell him it was all a terrible mistake. You had a good life with him. You had stability, and someone that would take care of you and understand your...ways. You can’t give that up.”

 

“I’m not going back,” you say firmly. “Jason and I are over.”

 

She sighs with the weight of the world. “I thought you were over this... _bisexual_ thing. It’s childish, Kimberly.”

 

“No it’s not! It’s who I am!” You don’t know how you’ve found the strength to talk back to her, but you can’t let her diminish who you are. “I’m not going back to Jason. I didn’t love him.”

 

“Love comes in time.”

 

“Well it didn’t. Not the right kind of love. And I want to fall in love, Mom. Like you did with Daddy. And for the record, I didn’t leave Jason for anyone else. I left him for me. I wasn’t happy.”

 

“And jumping from one relationship to another will make you happy?”

 

“You aren’t listening! I’m not jumping to any relationship. And if I were, it wouldn’t matter if it’s a girl or a guy. I like both. I know you don’t accept that about me, but it isn’t going to change who I am. Maybe it’s time you start to realize that I’m not who you _think_ I am, and I never was.”

 

“Kimberly, I-” You don’t wait to hear anymore. You hang up on her.

 

You stare at your phone, breathless, and wait for it to ring again. For her to call you back and tell you how impolite it was, and to tell you just what she thinks, but it doesn’t ring. You wait for a while to calm your breathing and your mind, then you walk back out to the living room. Trini stares at you from the couch.

 

“Is everything okay?”

 

“Fine,” you say. You sit beside her and she sits up next to you.

 

“Liar.”

 

The corners of your lips raise. “That was my mother.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“Yeah, she’s heard. So. At least now I don’t have to tell her.” You curl up in the corner of the couch and lay your head on the arm. Trini sits there a moment before draping the blanket over you. Then she sits back, at your feet, and resumes the movie. You don’t want to think about your mother and everything that she said, everything that you said to her, so you don’t. You watch the movie and within ten minutes you fall asleep. You only barely register Tirni walking you to the bedroom and tucking you in, and you roll against her and snuggle into her, and you sleep once more.

 

\--

 

The next day you feel coherent enough to do what you need to do. Which is go back to your-- _Jason’s_ apartment and clear your stuff out. You’re at the couch tying your sneakers when Trini walks out of the bedroom in worn jeans and an old tee shirt.

 

“I’m ready,” she states.

 

“You need to go to work,” you tell her.

 

“No, I don’t. They’ve got it covered.”

 

“You’ve only gone a couple hours a day since I showed up,” you say. “I know there’s stuff there that needs you.”

 

“ _You_ need me,” she says simply.

 

You sigh, because you know she’s right. For one, it’s going to be a decent amount of stuff to move. Two, it’s going to be hard. “Okay.” You won’t argue any more. Instead, you get to your feet and find your keys. “Can we take your car? It’s got more room.”

 

“Sure,” she nods. She picks up her keys and goes to open the door. “He’s definitely not gonna be there, right?”

 

“Yeah, I told him I’d be coming today. He doesn’t want to see me.”

 

“Okay,” she says.

 

The car ride is quiet. You stare out the window and replay Jason’s words in your head. You can’t get rid of them. _Cold_ . _Deceptive_. Are you really those things still? You don’t want to be. A tear slips down your cheek. Trini takes your hand from the driver’s seat and you look over at her. She’s staring at the road with an angry sort of determination on her face and you stare at her profile. Did you do it all for her?

 

Maybe.

 

“It’s gonna be okay, Princess. You’re gonna be okay,” she says gently. Her words warm you. You feel them in your chest and spreading out to the rest of you. How does she do that? You look out your window again, not letting go of her hand, and you sigh. Neither of you speak for the rest of the drive.

 

When you get to your old apartment you let the both of you inside with your key. You step in and stand there, breathing it all in. It still smells the same. It still looks the same. For some reason you thought it might feel more foreign to you. It’s only been three days, but they’ve been a long three days.

 

You can hear the echoes of your fight with him. You can see yourself sitting on the couch with him. You hear sounds from the bedroom that you’d rather push away. None of it is actually there, of course. The whole place is silent. Even Trini, at your side, is waiting quietly for you. You shake out of it and look at her.

 

“I don’t want much,” you say. “Just my clothes and stuff.”

 

“Really? You could take anything.”

 

“No.” You shake your head and look around again. “He can have all of this. I don’t have anywhere to put it all right now anyway.” You close the door and walk through the living room and she follows.

 

“You know you can stay with me as long as you need to,” she says. You pause. You weren’t going to say anything yet, but maybe now you should. “I’ve been texting with Zack since yesterday. He said he has an extra room I can stay in.”

 

“Zack...you barely know him.” Her eyes are narrowed in accusation.

 

“I know him enough. It’s just until I get my own place. I don’t want to impose on you and Billy for long. He’s not used to having a third person around, and I know it’s weird for him.”

 

“He’s okay.”

 

“Trin…” You turn and face her, and she’s looking at you like she’s angry, but you know she’s just concerned. “I need some space for a bit, okay? Just...while I process all of this.”

 

“Space?”

 

“I don’t want to rush into anything.”

 

“Yeah, I get that.”

 

You reach out for her hand and give it a squeeze. “What I feel for you hasn’t changed.”

 

“You’ll tell me if it does?”

 

“It won’t. We’ll get there.”

 

“Okay,” she nods. “Yeah, it’s cool.”

 

“I might hate living with Zack.”

 

She snorts. “Oh you probably will.”

 

You smile softly. “If I do, you’ll take me back?”

 

“Of course.”

 

You stare at her a moment longer and resist the clawing urge to kiss her. You let go of her hand and head into the bedroom and she follows you. She looks around while you go to the closet and pull out your only suitcase. You open it on the bed and start throwing clothes in. You hear her huff and she goes to the bed and folds all of the clothes as you toss them out. You smile to yourself at the easy rhythm you have together. After awhile she tells you its full so you get  some trash bags from the kitchen. You didn’t realize just how many clothes you have.

 

When your closet is empty you fill another trash bag with purses, toiletries, make up, and jewelry. Then you fill another with personal belongings that you don’t want to part with. In the end, all the bags and your suitcase are piled up by the front door and it looks like a lot while also feeling like it’s not enough. Your entire life currently fits in a suitcase and a few trash bags and you aren’t sure what to make of that.

 

“Should we load up?” Trini asks at your side.

 

“Yeah,” you nod. You both make two trips to get it all before returning to the apartment. You take one last look around and head to the door, but you stop and stare down at your hand. You’re still wearing your ring. You go to take it off and do so slowly. You twirl the ring in your fingertips and stare at it. You remember when he gave it to you, and when you felt that sinking feeling in your stomach while trying to hard to be happy about it. You set the ring on the table by the door and walk out to where Trini stands in the hall.

 

“You okay?” She asks.

 

“It’s just...weird,” you say softly. “I don’t know. I guess I am.” You pull the door shut and lock it then carefully remove the key from your keyring. You crouch down and pull up the welcome mat and set the key beneath it and stand again. And that’s when it feels like it’s really over. Like you may never see him again. It’s a hard feeling to bear.

 

“Do you need a minute alone?”

 

You shake your head and lift your chin. “No, let’s get out of here.”

 

\--

 

You arrive back at Trini’s place after having stopped at the storage center and rented a unit to put your things into for the time being. Now all you have is your suitcase. That and a beautiful girl at your side who’s staring at you like you might break at any moment. The two of you stand in her entrance way and you reach out for her hand. She stares at your hands together then looks up at you with questions in her gaze.

 

“Zack is getting off work soon,” you tell her.

 

“So...you’re gonna go?”

 

“I think I should.”

 

“Okay.” She sounds dejected and you feel horrible. You don’t want her to think you were using her for her time and attention, or that you aren’t going to return to her. Because, god, you’re going to return. How could you not?

 

“Trini…” You don’t know what you want to say to her. How do you say anything at all? How do you convey to her what her support means to you? What she means to you? You tug her closer and she stops just inches from you and looks up at you. She looks scared and vulnerable, and you’re not sure you’ve ever seen that look on her before. You let go of your suitcase and use your free hand to brush her hair back and touch her cheek. She leans into the touch while still looking up at you. “I will be back,” you promise.

 

“You’d better. I’m kinda into you, Hart.”

 

You smile and lean down to press your forehead to hers. “Kinda into you, too.” And you are. You really are. You move mere inches and press your lips to hers and she responds immediately. You get swept up in a hot, fiery kiss, and her body is pressed to yours, and you’re not sure why you’re even leaving for a minute. You part and try to breathe deep breaths. You look at her and she’s staring back at you with a dark, needy stare. You want her. You want her so bad that you’re ready to forget all of it and just stay. Pull her to her bedroom and discover the parts of her you don’t yet know. But you can’t rush. You don’t want to rush. You want to savor the build up, and you want to be ready for her. You brush another soft kiss to her lips. “I’m gonna miss you.”

 

“I’ll miss you, too,” she responds. “But I get it, and you’re right. Some space will be good right now. But if you need anything, if you need to talk, you know how to find me.”

 

“I know where you get your hot chocolate,” you tease.

 

“Yeah, you do.” She leans up and kisses you again, and it’s slow and sweet, and you melt into it. Into her.

 

“I should….go,” you say.

 

“Okay.”

 

You can’t move. You don’t _want_ to move. She’s too soft and warm, and addicting. You let out a sigh and step back. You don’t know how you find the strength to do it, but you do. “See you soon, Trini Cranston.”

 

She softly grins at that. “See you soon, Kimberly Hart.”

 

You pick up your suitcase again and move towards the door. “I’m not saying goodbye.”

 

“I’d hate it if you did.”

 

You open the door and look back to stare at her again. She’s smiling at you, and you can’t do anything but smile back. You stand there a moment, just staring at her and committing her to your memory, then you turn and walk out the door. You have to remind yourself that you’re doing this for you, that you can’t just stay there and forget your pain. You need to figure yourself out in a way that doesn’t involve her so that you can return to her. You want to be better for her. You want to be _you_ for her. You close the door behind yourself and start down the hallway. You don’t know what’s next in your life, or if you’re even doing it right, but you know that down the line, maybe not too far, there’s a gorgeous girl waiting for you. And that makes every step away from her that much easier. You’ll be back. You’ll be back, and you’ll be better than ever.


	8. i could get used to this

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back! So this chapter did not go as I had planned whatsoever. I hope you'll still like it though, and I hope you'll comment and let me know. We have one more chapter after this, then the epilogue! We're almost there!
> 
> cw: there's sexy stuff.
> 
> chapter song is I Could Get Used To This by The Veronicas

_"i'm feeling it comin' over me_  
_with you it all comes naturally_  
_lost the reflex to resist_  
_and I could get used to this"_

* * *

 

It’s been two months nearly since you’ve seen Trini, and you miss her quite desperately.

 

You’ve been living with Zack, and that’s been going great. He’s the biggest goofball you know, but he’s become _your_ goofball. And you’ve been learning, as you find your true self again, that you’re actually a lot alike. It’s good to be around that. To have someone to remind you of who you are.

 

But she does that, too. In her own way. And you miss it.

 

You finally broke down and texted her a few days ago, and the two of you have been talking almost nonstop since. You love hearing how she’s been, how Billy is doing, and filling her in on your life. You tell her about the hard days, the days you don’t want to get out of bed, and you tell her about the good days. Your days are becoming more good than not lately. She seems to like that.

 

It was hard at first. It was hard learning to live your life without her aid and without Jason. You think of him often and wish you could talk to him, despite everything he was such a big part of your life and you miss him, but you know he doesn’t want to hear from you.

 

Living without her, now that you know her and know what she does to you -- _for you_ \-- has been the hardest though. You knew in these last months that you needed to live without her to lean on so that you would lean on yourself instead, but you missed her. You missed her smile, and her nose. You missed her eyes and the way they look at you like no one else exists. You missed the way her arms feel around you. You missed her laugh, and how absolutely sweet it sounds. You missed everything about her. So when you finally felt ready, when you couldn’t take it anymore, you texted her; and it made your heart sing when she replied.

 

You haven’t been talking too deeply, aside from how you’re managing, and a part of you -- a big part -- is dying to dig in and figure you and her out. To ask about what is between you, and what is to come. But it’s not an easy thing to ask. You worry that she’s changed her mind, or that you only wanted her as an escape and that you built her up in your mind. That she might not be the girl, the woman, you remember her to be. But every text she sends you still gives you butterflies and makes you shiver. She makes you smile for no reason at all. That can’t be made up, can it?

 

Her ‘good morning, Princess’ texts. Her ‘sleep well, baby’ texts. She must feel something still as well, right?

 

And here’s the big problem right now. You haven’t had sex in a long time. You haven’t had _good_ sex...maybe ever. And the mere thought of her turns you on. So when she sends you a selfie of her in her sweats and glasses, and her hair down around her shoulder, you’re gone. You are so far gone. She’s gorgeous. All you can think about is how it felt to kiss her, and the thought of taking her glasses off and kissing her again. Pressing your body to hers and slipping your hand down the waistband of her pants and--

 

You’re gone.

 

You whimper and bite your lip and roll onto your back where you lay in your bed. You feel that familiar, and near constant these last few days, delight burn low in your stomach and shooting down between your legs. You remember the taste of her lips on yours, and the feel of her tongue in your mouth, and you instantly think about that tongue in other places.

 

**You:** Cute.

**Trini:** Cute? That’s all I get?  
**You:** No.

 

You want to tell her. You want to tell her what she’s doing to you and what you’re feeling, but you’re scared. What if it turns her off? What if it’s a step too far?

 

_What if you touch yourself and she never knows?_

 

You squeeze your thighs together, but it only makes it worse. It only makes your need grow.

 

**Trini:** Got something to say Princess?

**You:** You’re hot.

**Trini:** That’s more like it. Thanks.

**You:** No you’re really hot.

**Trini:** Thank you.

**You:** Seriously. I want you.

 

Your fingers hover over the send key. You want to tell her. You need to tell her. You close your eyes and press send. Your phone vibrates almost immediately and you take a breath before opening your eyes again.

 

**Trini:** Yeah? Tell me about it.  
**You:** I can’t.

**Trini:** Yes you can. Are you in bed?

**You:** Yes.

**Trini:** Are you wet?

 

You’ve never done this before. You and Jason didn’t do this. You didn’t talk about it. Maybe when you were younger, but not like this. It never _felt_ like this. You take a deep breath, and you know you can tell her. You _want_ to tell her. It’s thrilling. So you do.

 

**You:** God yes.

**Trini:** What do you want to do?  
**You:** I don’t know.  
**Trini:** Yes you do.

You whine slightly before reaching over and turning off your lamp. Maybe it’ll be easier in the dark. You bite down on your lip and type a reply before you can second guess yourself.

 

**You:** Take off your glasses and kiss you.  
**Trini:** That’s sweet. Get to the good stuff.  
**You:** Take off your clothes. Kiss your skin.

You’re not sure where you found the courage for that, but it’s getting a little easier. And you’re only getting more turned on.

 

**Trini:** I’d like that a lot. What do you want me to do to you Princess?

 

That one is harder. It’s not, because you know exactly what you want, but telling her is hard. You must be waiting too long to reply, because she sends another text.

 

**Trini:** It’s just me baby. Tell me what you want.  
**You:** I want you to touch me.

**Trini:** Where?

 

Your cheeks heat up and you feel like you’re sweating all over. You throw the blankets off of yourself to cool off some.

 

**You:** Anywhere. I just need you.  
**Trini:** Are you touching yourself?

**You:** No.

**Trini:** Go ahead. Pretend it’s my hand on your stomach, your hip, sliding between your legs. I can almost feel how wet you are.

 

That makes you choke on a moan. You’re on fire. You waste no time in doing exactly as she says, and when your fingers slide through slick folds you moan again. You know it would feel better if it were her touch, but you’ll take what you can get.

 

**Trini:** How does it feel?

**You:** Hot.

**Trini:** Yeah, you are. But how does it feel?

**You:** Like I need more.

**Trini:** Ask.

**You:** Trini.

**Trini:** Ask.

**You:** Can I please fuck myself?

**Trini:** Yes. Go slow.

 

You roll your eyes but relax back and push two fingers in. You’re biting your lip so hard you’re afraid it might bleed, but you also don’t care. You need it. You slowly pump your fingers in and out, just like she said, and the idea of her thinking about you doing this only fuels you. It’s hard for you to type back to her, but you try.

 

**You:** Duck this feels hood.

**Trini:** It must. I’m throbbing just thinking about you.

 

You whimper and start moving your fingers faster, even though she didn’t tell you to. You can’t wait. It feels too good.

 

**You:** Trin

 

The next moment your phone is buzzing with a call, and it’s her. You quickly swipe it to answer and hold it to your ear, but you don’t speak.

 

“I needed to hear you,” she says, her voice husky.

 

“I need you,” you whine.

 

“You’ve got me,” she murmurs. “I bet you look so beautiful right now.”

 

You grunt softly as you roll your hips up to meet your hand.

 

“Touch your clit,” she says. You circle your thumb against it and your hips jerk immediately. She chuckles nice and low. “You’re not gonna last long, are you?”

 

“N-not with you talking like that.”

 

“Are you imagining it’s me? My fingers inside of you? My naked body pressed to yours?”

 

“Y-yeah…” You’re panting now and you don’t care. Your legs spread wider and you curl your fingers, and at that you let out a low, long moan.

 

“You sound so good, baby,” she says in your ear. And you’re imagining her right there with you, encouraging you on. Touching you better than anyone ever has. You know she could. “If I were there I’d be kissing you while I’m three fingers deep,” she murmurs.

 

“Trini,” you whimper.

 

“Will you come for me?”

 

“I’ll-I’ll do anything for-for you,” you say, your admission slipping past your lips before you can stop it.

 

“Me too,” she says softly, her voice almost in awe.

 

“Trini, I-...” Your thought gets lost as you feel yourself get close. Your fingers move faster.

 

“Yeah, baby?”

 

“I’m gonna-” You can’t speak as you crash over that glorious waterfall, your hips jerking and your lips parted. You moan out lowly and stoke yourself through it before collapsing back on the bed and sighing. You don’t even care how fast you came, you’re just happy that she helped you get there.

 

“Feel good?”

 

“Amazing,” you whisper.

 

“I wish I were there to clean you up.”

 

“You could be.”

 

“Not tonight.”

 

“Oh.” You pull your hand from your pants and absent mindedly wipe your fingers on your sheets. Your brain is still trying to catch up to you. “What about you?”

 

“I’ll be fine.”

 

“But...you did that for me and...I should...I should-”

 

“Nothing a cold shower can’t fix.”

 

“I wanna hear you,” you say, turning on your side.

 

“Hear me what?”

 

You roll your eyes. Of course she’s making you say it. “Hear you come.”

 

“You will,” she promises. “Preferably with your face between my legs.” Your mouth drops open and you can’t form words. You’re already imagining it. She chuckles. “Did I break you, Princess?”

 

“Uh huh.”

 

“What can I do to fix it?”

 

You’re still breathing heavily, your mind fogged up, but that question is easy to answer. “Tell me you miss me.”

 

“I miss you so much,” she says all too quickly. “I wanna be holding you right now.”

 

“I want that, too.”

 

“It’ll happen soon.”

 

“Yeah,” you sigh out. You close your eyes and it’s then that you realize this is the first time you’ve heard her voice in months, and she sounds so good. “Talk to me.”

 

“About what?”

 

“Anything. I just...want to hear your voice.”

 

“Hmm...well, did I ever tell you about the time Mama Cranston took me and Billy to the Grand Canyon and he almost fell in?”

 

You smile and pull your blankets over yourself. “No, tell me.”

 

* * *

 

 

You’re sitting in your usual booth, the one you haven’t occupied in some time, with your coffee and two donuts in front of you. Across from you is a cup of hot chocolate, waiting. You stare out the window hoping to get a glance of her coming in and you’re taken back to nearly a year before when you used to sit there every night waiting for the opportunity to see her. When your heart would pound ( like it is now ) and your knee would shake ( like it is now ) and your singular thought would be of her. Like now. You glance over at Zack and he gives you a wink of support. You take a deep breath and look out the window again. The door jangles and when you look up to it you see her walk in. You gulp at the sight of her.

 

Will she ever not make you question reality?

 

She goes directly to the counter and you watch. She approaches Zack and gives him a half smile and you watch them talk for a second before he points to you. She turns to look and breaks into a smile when she meets your eyes. You wave. She makes her way over and stands beside the booth.

 

“Zack said someone already got my order,” she says. You jump to your feet and throw your arms around her, and she hugs you tightly. The two of you stand there for a long, long time just hugging and rocking.

 

Finally you part, and you clear your throat and sit back down. You motion to the seat across from you. “And Billy knows you’ll be a little late,” you reply.

 

“Does he?” She sits and puts a hand around the hot chocolate.

 

“Mmhmm,” you hum as you sip your coffee. You push a donut across the table to her. “I wanted to see you.”

 

“You couldn’t text?”

 

“I’m trying to do something romantic.” You roll your eyes playfully. She grins.

 

“Is there a reason you wanted to see me?” She slowly reaches over the table for your hand and you let your fingers tangle together. It feels so nice to be in front of her again. To be able to sit in public and hold her hand. The texts and phone calls have been great, but you love being around her in person, and it’s been so long since you have.

 

“Yes,” you say. You sit up a little taller. “Trini, I miss hanging out with you, and I’d like to again, but...I want to take you out on a date.”

 

Her eyes widen slightly and you try not to giggle at how cute she is. “You wanna take me on a date?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Are you sure? I mean, are you ready?”

 

She’s worried about your well-being. Even now. Still. She’s incredible. “I’m ready, and I want to do this right. So what do you think?”

 

She pulls your hand up so she can kiss your fingers and she smiles. “Of course I wanna go on a date with you.”

 

“Score,” you say with a nod. Then you shake your head. “I mean, okay cool.” She just laughs again.

 

“It’s so good to look at you again,” she says.

 

“Same,” you agree, staring at her in a peaceful awe.

 

“Would it be too cheesy if I said you’re more beautiful than I remember?”

 

“Yeah, but I’ll take it,” you grin.

 

She lifts your hand and kisses your knuckles, and she’s smiling behind it. “It’s great to see you smile.”

 

* * *

 

“Kimbro, you have _got_ to chill.”

 

You look over at Zack sprawled across your bed and your try to give him your most menacing glare. “Don’t tell me to chill.”

 

“You’ve tried on everything you own. Twice. I don’t think Trini’ll care if you show up in a paper bag.” He paws at the clothes that are surrounding him on the bed.

 

You roll your eyes. He clearly doesn’t get how important this night is. It’s _the night_ . The night you and Trini have been building up to for a year. It’s the first date you’ve been on since high school. Your first date with a girl. A girl that you know you could fall movie-quality in love with ( and maybe you already have ). You sigh and take off the black dress you’re wearing that feels _too_ dressy. You’re past being worried about Zack seeing you in your bra and underwear; he doesn’t care. With still shaking hands you pick up a nice pink top and put it on, then your nicest ( and tightest ) jeans.

 

“I wish I could just wear this,” you sigh.

 

“And you can’t, because…?” He holds up a flat palm.

 

“Because I’m taking her somewhere really nice!” You whine. “I want it to be romantic.”

 

“Again, I don’t think she’ll care, Pink. She seems like the type that would like pizza, beer, and Netflix.”

 

You know he’s right. But it’s the principle. You sit down on the bed beside his knees and take out your phone. She sent you a text sometime in the last ten minutes since you last looked.

 

**Trini:** No hints about where we’re going?

 

And you just smile. You smile because you want to see her, and hold her hand, and look at her. And maybe Zack’s right and it doesn’t have to be grand. Maybe being comfortable would be better for you both. You look up from your phone to your roommate.

 

“If I invite her here will you leave?”

 

Both of his brows shoot up and a certain smirk spreads on his lips. “For how long?”

 

You feel yourself blush, but you play it off with an eye roll. “I don’t know.”

 

“I can be scarce,” he says. “Just text me if I need to crash somewhere.”

 

“Okay….thank you, Zack.”

 

“Don’t mention it,” he replies, throwing a handful of clothes at you. You laugh and bat them away.

 

“But before you leave you have to help me straighten up.”

 

“Dude, she knows you live with me. I think she’d be surprised if this place is clean.”

“I don’t care.”

 

**You:** Meet me at my place at 7.

 

\--

 

At seven on the dot there’s a knock on your door. Your heart is racing and your palms feel sweaty. You quickly dry them on your jeans and go to the door to open it. When you do, your jaw drops. Standing at your door is the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen wearing a steel grey suit and tie with a white button down shirt, and her gorgeous dark hair hanging loose against her shoulders ( except for those three side braids that you adore ). She has on black heels that bring her up to your height, and you’re staring right into her glimmering golden eyes.

 

She’s also smirking at you right now.

 

“Close your mouth, Princess, you’re gonna catch flies.”

 

You close it.

 

She looks you up and down. “You said dress to impress. If I’d known I could impress in jeans, I woulda worn jeans. What’s the deal?”

 

“W-we’re staying in,” you manage to say.

 

“Why the change in plans?”

 

“I thought it’d be more comfortable this way. I’m sorry, I should have told you. I can lend you something?” You step back so she can come inside, and she steps in.

 

“I’ll be alright,” she assures you. “Your doofus here?”

 

“No, he went out.”

 

“Ahh, so it’s just us?” She steps up close to you and stares directly into your eyes, and you can’t look away. You don’t _want_ to look away.

 

“Just us,” you repeat softly.

 

“Good,” she murmurs. She reaches out to tuck your hair behind your ear and her fingers linger there. “It’s good to see you.”

 

“It’s good to see you, too.”

 

“So what’s the plan?”

 

“Plan?” You’re still a little dazed, and who wouldn’t be with a woman who looks like that and who looks at you like that while touching you like that? “Oh. Uh, I can’t cook.”

 

She chuckles and nods. “I know.”

 

“So is pizza okay?”

 

“Pizza is always okay.”

 

“Good!” You don’t mean to shout, and she jumps a little. “You can have a seat if you want,” you say, gesturing to the couch. “I got beer. Do you want a beer? Or...um, there’s juice, and I think Coke? Maybe some really cheap tequila?” It comes out more rushed than you intend it to.

 

“A beer is good.” She brushes your arm as she passes you for the couch. “Relax, it’s just me.”

 

If only she knew what that meant.

 

You get two beers from the fridge and sit beside her. As she opens hers you take out your phone and pull up the pizza app to order. You discuss what to get and place the order, and then you pick up your beer. You suddenly don’t know what to say or do without dinner plans to distract you, and it’s weird because you haven’t felt this awkward around her in a long time. But this is also only the second time you’ve seen her in months. You feel like there’s a rhythm that you’re failing to clutch onto.

 

Your elbows are on your knees and she’s leaning to the back of the couch with one elbow, sitting almost sideways in your direction. Her hand comes down to stroke your back, without lifting her elbow from the couch, and her head tilts.

 

“You okay?”

 

“Yeah,” you nod, and offer a weak smile.

 

“Talk to me.”

 

You gnaw at your lip for a moment then look at her. “I feel like this is a really important night, and I don’t want to mess it up.”

 

“What makes you think you’ll mess it up?”

 

“Have you met me?” You laugh.

 

“I have,” she says. “And I don’t think you could do anything to make this night bad.”

 

Her fingers are still stroking up and down your back, and it’s soothing. So are her words. You smile and relax some. “I’m glad you’re here.”

 

“Me, too.”

 

You open your beer and take a long swig, then you come up off your elbows and turn so that you’re facing her. She grins, and her hand slides down your shoulder and arm and takes one of your hands, and she laces your fingers together.

 

“You should know,” she says. “I told Mama Candace about our date tonight.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Mhmm, she says no matter how charming you are, I’m not to put out on the first date.” You feel your face go red. “She also says I gotta bring you to meet her soon.”

 

“I’d like to meet her.”

 

“Really?” She beams, and it’s moments like this, that brightness on her face, that makes you realize even more just how _not_ in love you were before. Not that you’re saying you are now. No, that’d be crazy.

 

“Really.”

 

“God, I really wanna kiss you,” she says, almost in a sigh. Then her eyes widen. “I didn’t mean to say that outloud.”

 

She’s too cute. You bite back a grin. “It’s okay.”

 

“I mean, I was gonna wait patiently ‘til the end of the night and hope I get one.”

 

You stare at her, and your pounding heart is loud in your ears. You can remember what it feels like to kiss her, and you’d be a liar if you said you could wait patiently either. You swallow and place your beer down.

 

“You...you don’t have to wait,” you say. And she doesn’t. You don’t. There’s nothing stopping you from kissing her any time you want to.

 

Her brow raises. “Really?”

 

“Yeah, I mean, if we both want to-” Your words are cut off by her lips on yours.

 

She’s holding your hand tight in her own, and her other hand is on your cheek. Her lips have yours captive in a warm, wet kiss, and you’re flying. You’re not in your own _body_ . You can’t possibly be. She _tastes_ and _feels_ just like you remember, only this time the intensity isn’t from finally having the ability after it being forbidden for so long, but the simple desire you have for one another.

 

And _god_ do you desire her. Your fingers tangle in her hair and you deepen the kiss, and she sighs against your lips and you know you’d be happy hearing her sounds for a long, long time. You both break from the kiss at the same time, keeping close and trying to catch your breath, and you open your eyes to look at her. Hers are still closed and she has a peaceful, calm look on her face. Her lips are parted, and you watch her tongue poke out to wet her lips, and you can’t take it. You need to be kissing her again. You need to _feel_ her.

 

You grab onto her tie and yank her back as you fall onto your back.  She falls against you and tries to catch herself, but you don’t care about her weight on you. It feels nice. Her face is inches from yours and still looks surprised, and you just grin.

 

“Hi,” you say.

 

“Hi,” she breathes.

 

You don’t know what it is, but you suddenly, truly, feel free. You stretch your legs out on the couch beneath her and move your hand up to gently brush her cheek. “You are...so fucking beautiful,” you say softly. Before she can reply, you kiss her. Slow and deep. She kisses you back and you’re sure no one has ever kissed you so reverently. You let go of her tie and run your fingers along the small of her back gently before pushing down on it to get her closer. She groans quietly and you nip at her bottom lip.

 

“m’I crushin’ you?” She whispers.

 

“No, but you can crush _on_ me,” you whisper back smartly.

 

She chuckles and pecks your lips. “Already am.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Mmhmm.” She kisses the edge of your lips. “Have been for awhile.”

 

“Tell me more about it.”

 

She kisses along your jaw. “Ever since I noticed you noticing me. I thought...who is that girl? How is she so gorgeous?” You feel her grin in your neck where she’s peppering more kisses, and it makes you grin in return.

 

Your hands settle on her hips, under her shirt, and you feel that deep burn low in your body. You rock up against her once. “I never saw you notice me.”

 

“I know. m’stealthy.” She kisses up your throat and you lean your head back and sigh. “I missed you.”

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

She leans up to look down at you and you open your eyes and look back.  “Don’t be,” she says. “Don’t be sorry. You needed to figure some stuff out, and I support you in that.”

 

You smile. “How did I find someone so perfect?”

 

“By stalking me,” she jokes.

 

You yank on her tie again to bring her close to your lips. “It worked, didn’t it?”

 

She laughs and kisses you, and you wrap your arms around her neck tightly as you kiss her back. You are already in love with kissing her. Her lips move so well with yours, and her tongue is magic. And that thought makes you think other thoughts and soon you’re rocking up against her, and she’s pushing back. You continue to kiss her and moan at all the sensations you’re feeling. You wrap a leg around the back of hers and relish in the feeling of her so close. The two of you are kissing and groaning and dry humping like teenagers, and you have to eventually break the kiss to lean your head back and just _feel_ the closeness of her. And it feels good. Her hand moves under you shirt against your abs and you feel your stomach twitch at her touch. You want it lower. Instead, her hand moves higher. Up over your covered breast, and she squeezes gently. You moan. She leans down and kisses your exposed stomach and you moan again. She’s slowly driving you crazy.

 

Before you know it your shirt is on the floor and she’s kissing up your stomach and ribs, and her fingers are circling your hardened nipple through your bra.

 

“God, Trini,” you whisper desperately. You feel yourself so wet for her, and you hadn’t expected the night to go like this, but you want it. You want her. She starts kissing her way back down your stomach and close to the waistband of your jeans, and now you’re biting back your moans in fear they’ll be loud and embarrassing. She flicks the button open and starts to tug them down, still kissing lower, and there’s a knock on the door. “Nooo,” you whine.

 

She leans up and chuckles. “We can pick this up later,” she promises. Then she gets up on her feet.

 

“No, just ignore it,” you say.

 

“Don’t move,” she tells you. She goes to the door and opens it, and you listen to her exchange with the delivery driver, and a moment later the door closes and the smell of pizza floods the room. Your stomach growls. In all the excitement of getting ready for your evening, you’ve hardly eaten today. But you don’t want to eat. Not pizza.

 

She comes back to the couch and places the pizza on the coffee table and looks down at you. “Wanna eat?”

 

You stare up at her, looking ethereal and stunning in her suit, and you think. You try to think. It’s hard with her looking like that. Disheveled, raw lips, heated face.

 

Do you want food? Or do you want to see where this was going?

 

You think about that phone call you shared, and how you had to only imagine what her touch felt like, and you quickly shake your head. “Food later,” you say.

 

She grins. “Food later. How about we take this to your bedroom then?” She offers you a hand up and you take it. You get to your feet and start to lead the way to your room with her coming up against your back and kissing your neck as you go. You stop suddenly. “Wait.”

 

“What?”

 

You take your phone from your pocket and quickly text Zack.

 

**You:** Don’t come home.

 

You toss your phone back towards the couch, not caring where it lands, and grab her hand again. “Okay.”

 

She shakes her head and goes back to making colorful marks against your skin, while her hands slide down low on your stomach and slip to the band of your panties. You press back against her as you walk, and the two of you stumble a bit and laugh, but she holds you tight and guides you down the hall.

 

“Which one?” She asks.

 

“Here.” You stop at your room and turn around in her arms to look at her, and she presses you to your bedroom door to stare back.

 

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want,” she says.

 

“I know.” Your arms are around her neck again and you’re staring into her safe eyes. “I just...want to be close to you.”

 

“Okay.” She kisses you softly and reaches behind you to turn the knob and push the door open, then she gently pushes you through it and closes it before moving you across the room to your bed. It’s now free of all the clothes that had been there before, and when the backs of your knees hit the bed frame you sit down. She stands there and stares at you for a moment with a look you can’t read. But you feel safe, and you feel wanted, and you feel all the things that you imagined real love is supposed to feel like.

 

Slowly, you reach behind yourself and take your bra off. She watches, her eyes widening slightly, and it makes you smirk. She leans forward, placing her hands on either side of the bed around you, and her face is inches from yours.

 

“You’re incredible,” she says quietly.

 

“You’re kind,” you reply. You cup her face. “And sweet, and...patient. And I want you.”

 

Her smile goes soft and her eyes follow, and she kisses your cheek. “Lay back, Princess.”

 

You do. She tugs your jeans off and leaves them on the floor, then runs her hands along your hips and thighs. She climbs up on the bed and stands on her knees, and as she stares down at you she starts to loosen her tie.

 

“Wait,” you whisper. You sit up beneath her and still her hands. “Leave it.”

 

Her brow goes up. “Kinky.”

 

“Your fault,” you reply. Then you start unbuttoning her shirt. When you get all the buttons undone, you slide your hands up her stomach, over her bra, and up her shoulders, and you push the shirt off of her. You gaze at her without it for a moment, but you’re too impatient. You unbutton her pants and push them down and she kicks them off. You stare at her again, licking your lips. “You’re so beautiful, Trin,” you tell her. She shrugs. “No. You are.” You set your hands on her hips and gaze up at her. “My beautiful girl.”

 

Her eyes darken at that and she runs her fingers through your hair. “I’ve been yours for a long time.”

 

“I know,” you reply. Your hands are stroking up and down her hips and you move them up higher. Her skin feels so good beneath your fingertips, and you never imagined you’d feel something so soft. You never imagined foreplay to feel so heavenly.

 

Your focus goes to her boobs. Your hands are traveling up her back towards the clasp of her bra, but she reaches behind herself to take your hands away. “Not yet,” she says. She gently pushes you back onto your back. “Me first.” And she leans down and kisses your stomach. Your eyes flutter shut and you let out a shaky breath. When did ‘me first’ become ‘let me please you first’? You’re not sure, but you love it.

 

Her lips are all over your stomach and low on your hips, and you think you know where she’s going, and you’re impatient. You want it now. You roll your hips up but she pushes them back down and trails her lips up your body. You whine.

 

“Sssh,” she hushes. She kisses up your rib cage and between your breasts before brushing her lips over the rise of one and takes a nipple between her lips. And you groan. You’re not even ashamed anymore. She sucks and nips and flicks, and you’re writhing beneath her. She gives the other nipple the same attention, and you feel like you could come right now. Between the gentleness she’s showing you and how it feels to have her be the one pleasing you, you’re not sure you _can_ control yourself.

 

But you do. She leaves your chest and moves up to kiss you hard, and you kiss her back. You hold onto her back, feeling her soft skin, and ruck your hips up against hers. She’s pressed right against you, and it feels so good. Your hips speed up and she lifts hers while pushing yours down.

 

“Slow down,” she whispers.

 

“Trin,” you whine.

 

“I’m gonna make it good, baby, I promise,” her words whisper against your lips. You nod. She kisses you again, softer, then moves her hand down between your legs and presses it against you.

 

“ _Fuck_ ,” you hiss. You lick your lips and close your eyes and try to relax. She just hums and rubs her fingers against you between the fabric of your underwear.

 

“Is that what you want?” She asks, her voice low.

 

“ _Yes_.”

 

You feel her hand leave your body and you whimper, but then she’s tugging your panties down your legs. You lift your hips to help, and she gets them free. In the next instant you feel her hands sliding up your legs and thighs, and pushes them apart. Cool air hits you and you gasp.

 

“I’ve been dreaming about this,” she says. Her lips are on the inside of your thigh, then the other, and relaxing is not easy. You want it. You want it so badly. Her lips are on your pubic bone, and then without warning her fingers are running through you, and your hips jerk. “Relax,” she murmurs. You grip onto the bedspread. She pushes a finger into you. You groan. Already you know it’s not enough. But she’s gentle and slow, letting your body adjust to her digit. You open your eyes and look down, and she’s staring up at you. Her gaze is hot and intense, and you can’t look away. She soon adds a second finger, and you feel so close already. No one has ever touched you the way she’s touching you right now, nor looked at you the way she’s looking at you, and you feel like falling apart.

 

She’s pumping her fingers into you slowly, and you spread your legs more for her. She picks up speed before leaning down, not breaking eye contact, and closes her lips over your clit. Your moan is loud and your hips move up against her face, and she pushes them back down as she sucks and flicks at your clit. Your hips are moving on their own against the hand holding them down, and you feel her cold tie moving between your legs as she works you up. Her fingers move faster and curl, and you never knew you could possibly feel this good. That someone could touch you so well. You don’t want it to end yet, but you feel yourself getting close. Tears prick your eyes, and you don’t know why, but you focus on the pleasure in your body instead. You move your hand down to clasp hers, and she squeezes. You’re trying to keep your eyes on hers and not close yours, but it all feels too good. Too all consuming.

 

Your head leans back, your eyes close, and you moan out her name as you feel your orgasm crash over you. Your body is rocking and twitching, and her fingers are guiding you through, and it feels never ending.

 

Eventually your body does relax, and she pulls her fingers free and you watch her lick them clean. You bite your lip, hips still twitching, and watch her climb up your body and hover over you.

 

“How was that?”

 

You bring your hands up against her neck. “Amazing,” you say. “It was amazing. You’re amazing. Thank you.” You pull her down and kiss her deeply. She kisses back and lays down against you, and her body feels warm and comfortable against yours. You wrap your arms around her waist and hold her there, just enjoying the kiss.

 

When she eventually pulls away she stays close enough that your noses brush.

 

“You’re welcome,” she whispers. And she gazes at you with such affection that your heart skips a beat. How could you have gone so long without someone that will look at you the way she does? Someone who will bring you pleasure the way she just did?

 

You’re suddenly overcome with the need to show her your appreciation for all that she does for you. You flip her under you and look down at her, and her eyes are wide.

 

“You’re really hot,” you say. You sit up on her waist and take the tie in your hand and pull it slightly. Her mouth drops open. You grin. “Really hot.” You let go of the tie and reach down to slide your hands under her and tug her bra free. You throw it over your shoulder, not caring where it goes, and stare down at her boobs. They’re nice boobs. Really nice. You like boobs. A lot. Especially hers. And in an instant you’re leaning down and exploring them with your lips, and she’s sighing with hitched breath beneath you. Her skin tastes a little salty and something else that you can’t quite explain but chalk up to _her_. You’re enjoying her breasts and the sounds she makes, but before long she’s pulling your hair lightly and whining your name. You look up at her and she wets her lips.

 

“Not that you’re not really good at that,” she says, “But I need you.”

 

And those words, _I need you_ , send shivers down your spine and produce goosebumps on your skin, and you just know that you can’t wait to make her feel good; to give her exactly what she needs. You lift yourself up and run your hand down her tight stomach to her boyshorts, and you start to tug them down while keeping an eye on her. There’s something questioning and almost vulnerable in her gaze, and you pause.

 

“You’re beautiful,” you tell her again. “And so good to me.” You continue pulling the panties down and get them as far as her knees before your gaze drops. Yeah, you are so bi. She kicks the panties off and spreads her legs, and you stretch out to lay against her. “I’m going to thank you now.” Your fingers trail in circles on her thigh and  you meet her gaze again, your face now closer to hers.

 

There’s a moment of hesitation. You’ve never done this before, not for someone else, and you’re scared for a beat. What if you don’t do it right? What if you can’t make her come? But you swallow that down because you want to try. You lean up and brush your lips to hers while your fingers move between her legs to feel her, and she feels _good_. Wet and warm, and ready. You deepen the kiss and slowly press a finger into her and she sighs into your mouth. It’s not very different than what you do for yourself, but...it is. It’s warmer, wetter, and so much hotter.

 

“Please,” she whispers.

 

And you love the sound of it. She sounds desperate and begging, and you feel like you hold her pleasure in the palm of your hand. Which...you do. You pump slowly at first before speeding up, and before long you add a second finger, and when she moans you swear you’re hot all over again. It’s the most exquisite sound you’ve ever heard.

 

“Harder,” she says in guidance. You nod and do as she asks, and her eyes close.

 

“Feels...good,” she mumbles.

 

“Good,” you reply. You kiss her jaw and her neck, and breathe in her scent. It smells sweatier than normal, and you love it. Your nose brushes her jaw and your thumb moves to press soft circles on her clit. She moans out louder. “God, I love that,” you tell her. You suck at her pulse point on her neck. You want people to know you’ve had her. Something is alight in you, and you feel confidence in what you’re doing. You curl your fingers inside of her then slow down. She whines.

 

“Nooo, no don’t stop.”

 

“Sssh, trust me.” You kiss the mark you’ve been making and add one more finger, because you know she can take it.

 

“Oh, god,” she cries out. “Please, faster.”

 

“You’ve always been so good to me,” you whisper into her neck. You sigh against it. “So kind and understanding…” You start to speed up your thrusting. “Patient.” Your thumb returns to her clit, and her hips jerk up. “You took the time to see the real me, when no one else could.” Again, you curl your fingers, and you don’t stop. “Thank you, Trini. Thank you, thank you…” You repeat the words against her skin, up her jaw and cheek, and you let your lips close over hers again. She kisses you sloppily, but you don’t care. Then she stops kissing you and just pants out soft cries, and you keep your lips close to hers. “Thank you, baby.”

 

When she comes her hips jerk violently against your hand, and her moans are soft and breathy. She grips onto you while she rides it out. Your fingers slow inside of her and you just watch her. It’s a beautiful sight. Her little moans turn into soft laughter, and your hand stills. You’re not sure why she’s laughing and it makes you feel worried. Worried that you did something wrong or not good enough. Her eyes open and she sees your face and quietens.

 

“No,” she coos. “No. Baby, c’mere.” She pulls you close and holds your face in her hands. “That. Was amazing.” She presses a soft kiss to your lips. “So good. So...wow…” Her head falls back on the bed and she stares up at the ceiling. “God, you’re so much better than me pretending it’s you.”

 

Your mouth drops. “You’ve done that?”

 

“You haven’t?”

 

Your mouth clamps shut and she laughs. She tugs you close again, wrapping her arms around you, and you rest your head to her shoulder. Her chuckles die out and you both lay there in silence, the only sound being her hard breathing and your heartbeat in your ears.

 

“It was really good?” You ask after a bit.

 

She puts a finger under your chin to tilt your head back and look you in the eye. “Amazing.”

 

That makes you smile, and she grins and kisses you. You kiss her back. You can’t stop. You run your fingers through her hair and hold the back of her head, and you want to never stop kissing her. She’s magic. She’s healing you day by day, and she’s done so much more. She’s believed in you when you didn’t believe in yourself, and you worship her for that. She pulls from the kiss and your noses brush together for a moment, both of you quiet, before she speaks up.

 

“Soon as the world stops spinning, I’m gonna go down on you, I hope you’re ready.”

 

You gulp. She’s going to kill you by orgasm.

 

* * *

 

 

The two of you are sitting on your bed. You in a tank top and panties and her in just one of your long shirts. There’s a pizza box in between you and more than half of it is gone. You both worked up quite the appetite. Right now she’s leaning down on one arm and looking at you with a small smile on her lips. You’re smiling back, just because, and you toss your uneaten pizza crust into the box with the others. You never eat the crust. She already fussed at you over that, how it’s the best part, but you disagreed.

 

But she’s staring at you and you have no idea what she’s thinking, you just know that she’s beautiful, and she’s yours. Well. Maybe. It is only the first date after all. You contemplate that and let out a chuckle.

 

“What?” She asks.

 

“We aren’t good at restraint, are we?”

 

She hums and moves the pizza box to the floor before scooting close to you. “Why restrain from what we truly want?”

 

God she’s sexy. That’s all you can think. You reach out, and her legs are right there, her incredible legs, and you run your fingers up one of them. You watch her shudder.

 

“Was three times not enough?” She asks, playing coy.

 

“I don’t think it’ll ever be enough with you.”

 

“I think, you’re a hornball now that you’re getting bangin’ sex,” she says, smirking. She takes your hand from her leg and entwines your fingers with her own.

 

“I think...I’m crazy about you,” you say softly.

 

She stares at you quietly again, but this time a look of deep thought is on her face. After a bit of silence she lifts your hand to kiss the back of it. “Me too, Princess.”

 

“I wish I knew a long time ago that this is what it’s supposed to feel like.”

 

“What what’s supposed to feel like?”

 

“...happiness,” you say.

 

She smiles and kisses your fingers again. “You know now, that’s what matters. You can’t change the past. You can’t rewrite it.”

 

“I know,” you nod. “And...I don’t want to change all of it. I don’t want to erases him.”

 

You can see her fight the desire to roll her eyes, and you appreciate it. “How are you feeling about all of that anyway? You know, with what he said, what he called you.”

 

You lick your lips and consider it. Do you still believe what he said about you? You don’t feel cold. You don’t feel deceptive. How can you possibly be cold when with Trini you feel so warm? And you know you haven’t deceived her. You never could.

 

Your chin lifts and you shake your head. “He was mad, he was acting out...I-I don’t think he really thinks those things about me. I think he was hurting.” Not that you can know for sure, as you still haven’t spoken to him since that night. But you know him. You know he has a good heart. And you know that however he’s doing he’s going to be okay. “I deserve more,” you go on. “More than...just living. With you...I get so much more.” And you know you’re jumping the gun. You know that the two of you haven’t started a real relationship yet, and that things could be imperfect at times, but you’ve known her deeply for a long time and you know how she makes you feel. Happy.

 

“Your smile is incredible,” she murmurs. “I love it.”

 

“It’s because of you.”

 

“No. It was all you, baby.” She pushes herself up and leans close to kiss your lips, and you kiss her back softly.

 

“Maybe it was us, together,” you murmur against her lips.

 

“I like the sound of ‘us’.”

 

“Me too.”

 

“Kimberly?”

 

“Yes?”

 

“If I don’t get some sleep I’m gonna die.”

 

You laugh and pull away from her. “Okay. Sleep time.” You get up and turn off the light while she climbs under the covers, then you make your way back to her and get into the bed.

 

“Big spoon or little spoon?” She asks.

 

“Big,” you answer, surprising yourself. In the past, you always relished being held by her, being protected, but now you don’t need it so much anymore. Now you want to hold her. So you move up against her back and wrap your arm around her, and you pull her back against yourself and nuzzle your face into her neck. “Just like this,” you whisper, before breathing her in.

 

“Goodnight,” she whispers.

 

“Very good night,” you reply.

 

* * *

 

In the morning you wake up to her gentle kiss on your lips and a soft, sweet round of morning sex, followed by shower sex. Now you’re both sitting on the couch in sweats and t-shirts, she borrowed from you and looks incredibly adorable in your clothes, and you’re eating cereal cuddled up against one another.

“I’m sorry I don’t have eggs or something,” you say.

 

“I already told you, this is fine.”

“You’re not dreaming of eggs, and pancakes, and bacon?”

 

“Mm, I have everything I’ve been dreaming about right here,” she says softly.

 

“Awww,” you laugh. “That was so stupid cute.”

 

“Yeah?” She laughs. “Was it too much?”

 

“No.” You lean in and peck her lips. “Perfect. Just like you.”

 

“Now who’s being stupid cute?”

 

“I guess you rubbed off on me.”

 

“ _Yeah_ , I did,” she smirks. “Several times.”

Your head falls back as you laugh. “Shut up.”

 

“Nope,” she says. “You’re stuck with it.”

 

You shrug your shoulders. “I guess I’ll live.” She kisses you again, and you both momentarily forget the bowls in your laps as you lose yourselves in the kiss. It’s only broken by the door slamming shut.

 

“Kimberly Ann Hart, you disgust me!”

 

You pull from Trini’s lips and look over your shoulder. “Hi, Zack.”

 

“Don’t ‘hi’ me!” He points a finger at you. “You got busy on the first date! What kind of lady are you?!”

 

“A lady who likes getting busy with a pretty lady,” you answer. You hear Trini laugh beside you.

 

Zack folds his arms. “And I’m supposed to accept this?”

 

“Yup.”

 

He considers it for a moment then shrugs. “Okay. Accepted. But I gotta say, Kimbro…” He holds his hand up in the air. “ _Noice_.”

 

“I’m not high-fiving you,” you say.

 

“But...we’re bros. This is what bros do when-”

 

“She’ll high-five you later,” Trini says dryly. You look at her. “What? You know you will.” And you shrug. She’s right, you probably will.

 

Zack launches over the back of the couch and takes your bowl from you and starts eating from it. “So what are you two doing today?” He asks through Frosted Flakes, milk dribbling down his chin.

 

You roll your eyes and shake your head. “We haven’t decided.” You look at Trini. “Are we doing stuff today? I mean...if you don’t have other things to do.” Your eyes are wide in hope that she’ll say she wants to spend it with you.

 

Trini leans forward to put her empty bowl on the table and looks back at you as she leans back. “We should do stuff. But I do need to go home and change, and take these contacts out. They’re ‘bout dry.”

 

You nod, trying not to smile too big ( you fail at that ) and you grab her hand to squeeze it. “Okay.”

 

She chuckles and squeezes your hand back. “Maybe I’ll see if Billy wants to join us?”

 

“I’d like that,” you say. You turn to look at your roommate who’s looking at you with a wide eyed, angelic gaze. You take a deep breath and let it out. “Zack, would you like to hang out with us?”

 

“Yeah!” He beams. “Billy seems awesome, I’d love to talk to him more.”

 

“B isn’t just awesome,” Trini cuts in, voice sharp. “He’s the best.”

 

“Which means you have to be on your best behavior,” you tell him.

 

He scoffs. “Like I wouldn’t be?” You just raise a brow and he eventually shrugs. “Yeah, okay. But I’m gonna go take a shower.” He hands you the empty bowl and hops up and disappears to his room.

 

You look at Trini. She’s sitting there looking gorgeous and she smiles at you. You smile back and just stare at her for awhile. You’re trying to figure out how you got here. From the lowest point of your life to what is, right now, the highest. All the possibilities of what’s to come and the memories you’ll make together. For a long time you didn’t even _want_ to be happy, but now you can’t imagine wanting anything else. Happiness. With her.

 

“Whatcha thinkin’, Princess?” Her lovely voice breaks through your thoughts, and you sigh.

 

“About being happy,” you say.

 

“That’s a good thing to think about.”

 

You set your bowl on the coffee table and shift to lean against her. She wraps her arm around your shoulders and kisses the top of your head.

 

“I know you need to go,” you say, “But I just want to enjoy this a minute longer.”

 

“Me too. We can enjoy it as long as you need.”

 

* * *

 

Trini’s hand is securely in yours where you sit side by side at a restaurant near her apartment. Billy is sitting across from her and Zack across from you. The boys are joking around and laughing, and you and Trini are just sitting quietly. Every so often you glance at each other and just smile, and it warms you inside and out.

 

“They’re doing it again,” Billy states.

 

You look away from Trini to Billy, then to Zack who’s looking at you like he wants to laugh. You don’t even know why he’s holding back. He didn’t ten minutes ago.

 

“What?” You ask.

 

“Are you two going to be disgusting like this from now on?” Zack asks.

 

“Maybe,” Trini answers, her voice playfully sharp. “Gotta problem with it, Taylor?”

 

He holds his hands up. “You do you,” he says. “But if you _are_ then I’m gonna need Billy around more.”

 

“I think I’ll need your support as well,” Billy comments.

 

“You too, B?” She asks of her brother.

 

He just smiles. “I’m glad you’re both happy.”

 

Trini raises her brow and pulls her hand from yours to wrap her arm around your shoulders. You smile as you lean into her. She continues to stare at the boys, challenging them, but neither say anything. They go back to talking to each other.

 

“I like this side of you,” you tell her. “It’s sexy.”

 

“Yeah?” She kisses your forehead softly, and you never thought of her as the PDA type, and honestly you never have been either, but with her...you don’t mind. At all.

 

“Yeah,” you say lowly. “We might have to ditch these guys after we eat.”

 

There’s silence, and you tilt your head so you can look up at her. She’s licking her lips and staring down at her empty plate. Then she clears her throat.

 

“I just realized, I’m not hungry,” she says. You frown. The guys stop talking and look at her.

 

“But...you two wanted to come here,” Billy says, clearly confused. You have to admit, you are, too.

 

“Yeah...I, uh, I’m still full from breakfast.”

 

“But all we had was-” You stop at the look she’s giving you. Like she’s trying to get you to read her mind. But you’re still so lost.

 

“What?” You ask.

 

“Kim, let’s go to the bathroom,” she says. She untangles herself from you and gets up before offering her hand. Still frowning, you take her hand and get up. You let her lead you to the back of the restaurant and into the bathroom, and she closes the door and turns to look at you. “What I’m hungry for isn’t food,” she says thickly, stepping up to you.

 

You back up to the door and gulp. “Oh?”

 

Her smirk is borderline predatory, maybe not even borderline, and she places a hand to the door over your shoulder. “Do you wanna stay or go?” Then she leans in and starts kissing your neck. Your eyes flutter shut and you have trouble thinking.

 

“B-but...the-the guys…”

 

“Mm, they’re big boys,” she murmurs into your skin, nipping at the pulse point in your neck. You whine.

 

“Baby…”

 

Her hips suddenly push into yours, pressing you into the door, and she bites down. Your hands fly to her hips and squeeze them. “I like you calling me that,” she says huskily.

 

“Trini,” you try instead.

 

“I want you, Kimberly.” She lifts her head to let her lips hover in front of yours. “Do you want me?”

 

You know you should resist. You should go back out to your friends and hang out with them, but everything in your body is screaming for her. And she’s trying to wedge her thigh between your legs.

 

“Not here,” you whisper.

 

“My place?”

 

“Yes,” you whimper, giving in. You open your eyes to look at her and she’s grinning. She backs off and holds out her hand again.

 

“C’mon. I’ll do the talking.”

 

You nod, because you’re not sure you _can_ talk. You just...need her. You let her pull you out of the bathroom and back to the table, and she picks up her purse.

 

“Kim’s not feeling well all the sudden,” she lies. “I’m gonna take her back to our place and let her rest.”

 

Zack looks at you, and you know he doesn’t buy it. Not with the way he’s smirking. You look away, at Billy, and Billy is looking at you in concern. Shit. He bought it. You decide to look at your feet instead. You don’t want to give anything away, and you feel guilty.

 

But yes, you’d rather go back to Trini’s.

 

“I hope you feel better, Kim,” Billy says earnestly.

 

“She will,” Trini answers for you. “Probably too much Frosted Flakes this morning.”

 

“Right…” Zack says. “Well, have a good _rest_ , Kimmy. Billy and I will hang out here a little longer, maybe go play some video games...give you guys plenty of time to... _rest._ ”

 

“Why do you keep saying it like that?” Billy asks.

 

“Okay, we’re going,” Trini says quickly, and she pulls you to the door. You have a feeling she has trouble lying to Billy generally. You lift your head as the two of you go out the door. “Sorry,” she says.

 

“Why?” You press to her side, and the two of you walk towards her place. “I want to.”

 

“You make me feel like I’m sixteen again,” she laughs.

 

“You make me feel that, too.”

 

She looks over at you and smiles. “We’ll make it up to them.”

 

When you two get to her place she opens the door and tugs you in, and before the door clicks shut she has you in her arms, and she’s kissing you. You kiss her back and put your arms around her, but she catches your wrists and pins them back behind your back. You struggle, because you want to hold her, but she has a tight hold on you. It’s kinda hot. She’s kicking out of her shoes and moving backwards towards her room, but trips over the shoes she just discarded, and the two of you tumble to the floor laughing. She’s on her back and you’re on top of her.

 

“Sorry!” She giggles.

 

“Are you drunk?” You accuse, a smile on your lips.

 

“Drunk on you,” she answer smoothly.

 

You roll your eyes and get up and help her up as well. “You’re already going to get me naked, you don’t need one-liners.”

 

“What if they’re true?” She holds your hands in hers and backs to her room again while looking at you with a tilted head.

 

“Then...it’s okay,” you nod. When you get down the hall to her door you press her against it, and the two of you stare at one another for a long time. She reaches out and tucks your hair behind you ear. You don’t know why, it’s just going to fall forward again. But it’s a sweet gesture and you smile wider.

 

“I’m just thinkin’ ‘bout all the things I’m gonna do to you,” she says, and you shudder. She reaches behind herself for the doorknob and pushes the door open. You stumble back, but she catches you and pulls you close, kissing you. And, god, it’s only been maybe an hour since you last kissed her, but it feels like so much longer. You kiss her back and let her guide you back to the bed after she shuts the door with her foot. You sit down and she climbs up into your lap and you’re still kissing, kissing like you’ve never done it before. Kissing her is like flying, soaring through the sky on the brightest, warmest day. She’s moving around on your lap and you pull from the kiss to catch your breath and open your eyes, and her shirt is gone. Your eyes drop to her chest and you stare at her boobs clad in a black bra. She’s incredible.

 

“Say it again,” she whispers. She starts tugging your shirt off and you lift your arms to help her.

 

“Say what?” You ask when the shirt is out of your way. You still can’t look away from her boobs. She puts a finger under your chin and lifts your head and you stare into her dark, dark eyes.

 

“What you called me in the bathroom.”

 

“Oh...baby?”

 

Her lips tip up. “Like you mean it.”

 

You chuckle and rub your hands on her thighs. You tilt your head, lick your lips slowly, and lower your voice. “What do you want, baby?”

 

You see Trini gulp, and her hips rock down into yours. “I want you,” she says softly.

 

“You have me.” Your hands trail up her body and to the straps of her bra to tug them down. “You can do anything you want.”

 

“Anything?” Her eyes go quizzical, like she doesn’t understand what you’ve said.

 

You just nod. “I trust you,” you murmur. You lean down and pepper soft kisses along the rise of her breasts. Her breath hitches and she doesn’t stop you, so you continue. You pull her bra down until her breasts are free and you move your lips down until you can suck a nipple between them. You suck and nip at it and enjoy her pants and soft noises. You release her nipple with a pop and glance up at her, catching her dark gaze. “I trust you, baby,” you repeat. Then you take her other nipple to pay it the same attention.

 

When she can’t take anymore she pushes you back on the bed, and you land on your back and look up at her. She crawls up and settles on your hips. She takes off her bra and throws it aside, then places her hands on your stomach.

 

“I trust you, too,” she whispers. Her hands roam your skin slowly. “I have for a long time.”

 

You watch her, and it looks like she wants to say more, looks like she’s troubled by something. But she just lowers her head and kisses your stomach. Your eyes close and you sigh, feeling your muscles twitch from it. She presses another kiss higher on your stomach and you let out a soft sound of content.

 

“Kim,” she says, and for once hearing your shortened name on her lips doesn’t sound wrong, it sounds so right.

 

“Mm?”

 

“Tell me you’re mine.” And her voice sounds so small, so needy. Your eyes open and you look at the ceiling. It’s such a step. A big step. Maybe not to someone else, but to you it is. And it’s not that you aren’t hers, because you are. You think you have been from the moment you met her, but saying it...acknowledging it...that’s something else. That means something. You hate that you’re hesitating. She needs it. Maybe because for so long you _couldn’t_ be hers. For so long you couldn’t have each other. Now you can. Now you can be hers. And when your eyes move from the ceiling to her beautiful eyes, she’s looking at you with fear and sadness in her gaze. Like she’s expecting you to say you aren’t. Your heart aches.

 

You reach for her and she lets you pull her down against yourself, and you cup her face in your hands and brush her hair back. “I’m yours,” you tell her. “All yours.” And you think you see tears slip from her eyes before she catches your lips with hers in a searing, deep kiss. You hold onto her and kiss her and try to show her that you mean it. The two of you roll around and fumble, breaking the kiss and resuming it a few times, until you’re both naked and laying on your sides, pressed together. She’s staring at you, and you’re staring back, and she finally smiles softly.

 

“I’m yours, too, Princess. Don’t ever, _ever_ doubt it.” And her hand is between your legs, and you gasp as she runs her fingers through you. You reach down and mirror her touch on you, and you feel how wet she is. The fact that it’s for you makes your heart pound and your hips rock into her touch, and you listen to her soft gasp as you press two fingers into her. Your own gasp follows when she does the same. Soon you’re rocking against each other, thrusting into one another, and the only sound in the room is the slick sound of sex and soft pants and moans.

 

You come together staring into each other’s eyes, and it’s everything you never thought sex could be. You lay there together, fingers still inside one another, and share soft pecks.

 

“Thank you,” she whispers to your lips.

 

“For what?”

 

“Being mine.”

 

“Thank you for finding me,” you reply, as you untangle from her and push her onto her back. You slide down her body towards your destination and stare up at her, amazed and grateful that this is finally your life.


End file.
